


Easier to build strong children, than repair broken men

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Tony Stark, Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby Tony Stark, Bruce Banner is not good with kids, Clint Barton is Good with Kids, De-Aged Tony Stark, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Tony, Kid Tony Stark, Not Canon Compliant, Protective Avengers, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: During a battle, Tony Stark is temporarily de-aged into a toddler, and is left in the care of his team. Just buttloads of fluff!Just a reminder that I'm not Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Zak Penn, or Joss Whedon. I'm simply having fun with their characters.
Comments: 78
Kudos: 379





	1. Oh, baby!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm writing this because I'm trying to pump out a second chapter for my other fic "A-B-C, easy as 1-2-3!" but, I'm stuck obsessing over this idea I have for an adorable Tony Stark fic! So I thought I'd just get it in writing so I can clear my head of it, and focus on my other fic!
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Tony Stark was prepared for anything. The Iron Man suit was equipped with every gadget imaginable, right down to a filtration system. So, come hell or high water, Tony was ready. Yeah, at least that's what he thought, until about ten minutes ago. 

Tony should have known there would be some funny business during this battle, seeing as while fighting Thor had warned the Avengers that while not the strongest in hand to hand combat (or _fist to face_ as Clint liked to call it), the particular race of aliens they were battling was extremely cunning and mischievous, and liked to humiliate their opponents using magic. Jesus, Tony hated magic. Especially after what happened just minutes into the fight. To be honest, Tony didn't entirely remember what'd happened during the fight, aside from the fact that there'd been a flash of bright green light pouring out of the hands of one of the alien warriors, and suddenly the whole army had retreated back into the sky. They were cackling maniacally as they left, a high pitched noise that made Tony wince, because his head was already pounding. He heard the muffled sounds of his colleagues checking in with each other over the comms, and wondered why they sounded so muffled anyways. He started to say something about fixing up the devices, when suddenly, everything went black. 

* * *

When Tony woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in battle anymore. In fact, he was back in the tower lying on a couch with Bruce hunched over him looking worried. The second thing he noticed was that he was naked but too tired to do anything about it. He assumed he'd been injured, and the scientist was checking him over. The third thing he noticed was that Bruce looked a lot bigger now. But, he assumed that was the painkillers talking or something, so he brushed off the thought. When Bruce saw that he was awake, he gave him a nervous smile and softly said,

"Hey Tones, you feeling alright?" For some reason he wouldn't meet Tony's eyes when he said it, which made Tony nervous, but he nodded in confirmation anyways. He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea hit him, and he lowered himself back down onto the couch. At that moment Steve, Clint and Natasha entered the room, and Tony felt a blush rising in his cheeks at the fact he was nude in front of his teammates, but none of them mentioned it. What he thought was even weirder than that was the look Natasha was giving Tony. It was caring and almost parental. She usually only reserved that look for Clint's kids. Meanwhile, the captain had his eyes trained on Bruce. Tony tuned in to their conversation, and what he heard made him sit up despite the Nausea.

"What do you mean 'Have you found out how old the _kid_ is yet?' What kid?" Tony furrowed his brow at the sound of his voice. It sounded way to high. Bruce turned to face Tony, looking guilty. He cleared his throat before speaking. 

"Uhm Tony... you see...during the fight one of those aliens hit you with a spell that turned you into..." he paused for far too long, "a two-year-old, by the looks of it." All eyes were on him now, waiting to see how he'd receive the news. To his surprise and mortification, he felt tears welling in his eyes. He wanted to scream, he wanted to hit the scientist, and make him take it back and apologize for lying. But, he knew it was true. Everything that he'd noticed since he woke up was perfect evidence of his current state, and for some reason that made him want to cry even more than before. "Thor said he'd seen the spell before, and that it isn't permanent." Bruce started speaking again, obviously floundering at the sight of his friend getting emotional. "He said it should only last a month or so." Tony did take this as a small consolation, but he still didn't want to be stuck like this! He couldn't hold back the tears anymore, and he felt them pouring down his face. At first nobody moved, all too stunned at seeing Tony Stark cry. But then, to everyone's surprise, it was Natasha who pulled Tony's now oversized shirt onto his head, and scooped him up into her arms, holding him protectively. Tony buried his face into her shirt as she settled him in front of her, with one arm under his butt, and the other rubbing his back. She didn't talk as she held him, but hummed into his hair sympathetically bouncing him till he began to calm. It wasn't till he had stopped crying that she looked up at the others. 

"He's asleep now I think." She shifted him in her arms until she was cradling him, so he'd be more comfortable. "Poor baby." she cooed at Tony as she sat down on the couch where he'd been sitting previously, "We should probably make some sort of schedule for taking care of him, and maybe a list of baby supplies we can have JARVIS get." All the others in the room were unsure how to continue from there. Who knew that _the_ Black Widow would be so good with kids?

* * *

"OH GEEZ TONY!" Tony peeled his eyes open, and saw that at some point he'd been transferred to Clint's arms, and he was cradling him like an infant. But, even worse than that was what he did next. He held Tony out at arms length so that all the other Avengers could realize what he'd done at the same time as him. "You peed all over me!" And now he had to accept his fate as a dead man, seeing as the trained assassin holding him was going to kill him the next time he fell asleep. Tony felt new tears spring to his eyes, and found himself relieved when Natasha walked over and took him from Clint, exiting the room and saving him from the mortification of being in front of his colleagues in that state any longer. She took him down to her floor, and carried him into the bathroom. She stripped him of his soaked shirt, which was the only piece of clothes he was wearing and sat him on the carpet as she drew a bath. She helped him over the tall rim and into the tub, and turned around, allowing him to clean himself off. Afterwards, she scooped him up again, this time wrapped tightly in a towel and carried him into her room. She looked around thoughtfully, then opened a drawer, and pulled out a large t-shirt that looked as though it probably was filched off of one of the other avengers. She was about to put it on him, but after a moment's consideration went back into the washroom, and reappeared with a hand towel. Tony was pretty sure she knew what she was going to do before she did it, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt her lift his legs, then place them back down on the towel, spread slightly, and then she did what he feared she would. She proceeded to wrap and tie the towel so it was a bulky, makeshift diaper. He opened his eyes again, giving her a look that screamed betrayal. The look must have been more ineffective coming from a toddler, because she huffed a laugh, and picked him up once more. "Just until we can buy something better." She said in explanation as she and Tony made their way back to the communal floor. Tony didn't even want to know what _"something better"_ meant.

The pair approached the elevator, Tony still in Natasha's arms, and all Tony could think about was how much he didn't want to face his other teammates again. Despite the fact that he was actually quite comfy in her arms, Tony squirmed in the elevator and asked to be set down. It was his first time standing post transformation, and his legs felt weaker than he thought they should've. He practiced taking a few wobbly steps with his arms above his head being held by Natasha. When the elevator doors slid open on the communal floor, Tony felt the urge to walk by himself, and tugged his tiny hands out of Natasha's as he waddled into the living room where the other avengers seemed to be discussing who'd be watching Tony while the others had missions and such. He interjected with a little _ahem_ that caught all their attentions. 

"You guys don't need to take care of me. I'm not actually a baby you know?" Tony focused on not speaking with a lisp as he spoke.Clint smirked at him, standing up. Tony blushed at the realization that the archer was wearing a completely different outfit. 

"Sure you aren't." He looked disbelieving, "Come here you little rugrat." He opened his arms to Tony. 

"Don't tease him Clint." Steve warned slipping into Captain America voice, "That's not very nice."

"I'm not gonna tease him Steve. I have a kid his age, remember? I just wanna' see him." Tony felt like running, but he wasn't sure if his legs would carry him at any speed faster than he was already going. Still, he turned and started clumsily padding away from the archer, who caught him in two steps, and scooped him up from under his arms exposing his towel undergarment. He didn't say anything, but he did let out a small laugh, inspiring the tiny engineer to swing his chubby little fists at the man's chest. 

"Jack ass." he muttered, apparently not as quiet as he thought he had because Steve snapped at him,

"Language Tony!" Clint sat down, then placed Tony on his lap. The tiny engineer stuck his tongue out at the captain, but made no verbal remark, instead pressing his back against the archer's stomach to further distance himself from the man. Clint laughed at that,

"No snarky response Stark? That's a first! You must be really tired!" 

"Not tired, hungry." Tony rebutted. "I thought you were a parent Barton. Don't you know that kids are supposed to have sustenance at least every twelve hours?" Bruce was the only one with the decency to look guilty. 

"We should probably get him some food. But, what do two-year-olds even eat?" All heads turned to Clint, seeing as he was the resident parent. He shrugged, 

"Anything really. As long as it's cut up into small pieces." Tony let out a groan that went unacknowledged by the others, but was too hungry to refuse the statement.

It didn't take long for the avengers to agree on leftover pizza, seeing as everyone (except maybe Steve) was too tired to cook. As the team settled at the table, Tony figured that Clint, who was still resting Tony on one of his hips, would sit him down in his own seat, but instead he handed him to Natasha who'd already cut up a slice of pizza for him, and poured him a glass of milk and herself a glass of wine. She looked slightly apologetic, seeing Tony was obviously not pleased with anything about the situation. 

"I'm sorry bub, but you won't even be able to reach your food if you sit on your own chair."

"No need to remind me." He sighed as she stroked his hair, and popped a square of pizza with a large chunk of sausage on it into his mouth. He reached for his glass of milk, but frowned at how heavy it was. 

"Both hands Tony." Natasha reminded him. He was annoyed, but complied because he was also thirsty. Even with both hands gripping the glass he managed to spill around half the milk down his chin and on his shirt. Natasha reached to wipe his face with a napkin, but retracted her arm when she saw his venomous stare. "Do we have sippy cups on our list?" she asked the group in general. She looked equally satisfied as Tony did angry when Steve nodded, but he knew he was too covered in milk to make a strong argument as to why he didn't need them. He also knew that the next month was going to seriously suck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Love it? Hate it? Let me know!


	2. Getting Settled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony spends his first night and day as a baby. My brain is full of fluff!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited about all the lovely comments I've received so far!!! Sending love to all of you! 
> 
> Some swearing in this chapter, but not really. I think the worst word is "fricking", so...

After dinner Tony was passed around by each of the Avengers as they all proceeded to tidy the kitchen and lend a hand. At some point he was sat down on a counter which was, much to his dismay, far too tall to jump off of. So, in classic two-year-old fashion, he started making little noises that sounded like a mix between a hum and a cry, and hoped they'd inspire someone to come save him. He didn't entirely notice the noises he was making til' Bruce approached him with a questioning look. 

"You okay Tony?" He felt his face go hot with embarrassment, but it didn't stop him from lifting his arms in an obvious request to be held. At first the Bruce looked resistant to the idea, and Tony, having already noticed that Bruce had been the only Avenger not to pick him up yet, lowered his arms in resignation and decided he'd have to wait for another team member to come collect him. He shoved one tiny fist into his mouth chewing absentmindedly on his knuckles when suddenly, the scientist scooped him up and held him stiffly. He shrugged when Tony raised his eyebrows at him, "I was nervous the other guy would come out when I picked you up. I don't know why. Sorry, it's stupid I know. It's just... you're so small and-" he was cut off by the feeling of something pressing against his chest, and looked down to see the young engineer giving him the tiniest hug he'd ever experienced. Any worries he had slipped away. The other guy wasn't coming out any time soon.

* * *

Bruce took Tony out to the living room, where Clint and Natasha were settled on the couch arguing over what movie to watch (a day of battle tradition), and Thor and the Captain were discussing the creatures they'd been fighting that morning. Thor was planning on leaving earth the next day to confront the army of beasts, which made Tony feel very satisfied. Bruce had informed Tony on the way to the living room that he was allowed to join them, but he had to at least try to fall asleep. True to his word, Bruce, who'd settled next to Natasha, wrapped Tony in a blanket, and was cradling him so he couldn't even see the screen properly. He squirmed a little in his friends arms, and saw Natasha reach her hand over and stroke his head. 

"Settle down baby."

"Not a baby." He retorted almost instantly. 

"Hmmmm, really? You've got soft baby hair." Her voice was so quiet it was a hum. Tony squirmed a little more knowing that she was trying to relax him into falling asleep. It was only seven for christs sake! She leaned over more, and pulled him from a relieved looking Bruce's arms. "Come on squirmy. Let's go for a walk." She stood up with Tony in her arms, and began walking around the floor. They travelled mindlessly around the floor, Natasha bouncing Tony the whole time, and speaking gently to him in a language he didn't understand but found comforting. He liked the way the words rolled of her tongue, and the subtle way her r's bubbled and her k's clicked in the back of her throat. Finally after twenty or so minutes, he felt sleep tugging at his eyes, and gave in. He managed to murmur,

"God dammit." As he was pulled further away from consciousness.

* * *

Tony's first day as a two-year-old was wholly tortuous right from the moment it started. Upon waking up, he found himself in an unfamiliar room with an unpleasant sensation originating from in between his legs. He felt cold and wet, and he knew instantly what'd happened. He sat up, straining his eyes to look around the dark room. He'd been curled up in a love seat, and across from him in a bed, he identified a sleeping figure as Clint. Tony couldn't help the soft whine that escaped his lips, but despite how quiet it was, it jolted the archer out of his seemingly deep sleep instantaneously. 

"Morning bud." He sat up and stretched his arms out, then walked over to Tony. "How was your sleep?" Tony couldn't respond. He simply looked down in humiliation. It didn't take Clint long to figure out what was wrong. "Oh, Tones." He sounded pitying, and Tony hated it. He pulled back the sheets, revealing that they were still dry. "At least the towel worked. I'm sure that the stuff we ordered has been delivered by now. We can probably find you something more comfortable to wear." Tony whined again,

"NO! No Cwint, don' wanna." He winced at how he suddenly sounded like a real two year old. How long would it be till his language skills regressed? Clint tried to hide a smirk at Tony's pronunciation. 

"Come on, don't you want to get out of that?" He was trying to appeal to Tony's adult side, but at the moment, Tony was feeling very much like throwing an age-appropriate temper tantrum. 

"Nooooo!" Clint sighed, and grabbed Tony under his arms before he could wriggle away. "Let's go pal. Time to get you changed."

* * *

When they reached the communal floor, Tony found out that Clint was right. In the living room, Steve was constructing a play pen, and a high chair (Tony decided in that moment that he'd use neither), and Natasha was unpacking a bag of various baby items ranging from toys to pacifiers and bottles, but worst of all, a pile of the supplies necessary for changing a diaper. Natasha smiled at the pair when then entered the room, but Tony just continued to whimper. Clint smiled back at her,

"Hey Nat. Sorry about this one, he's a little fussy. He had an _accident,_ " he put a strange emphasis on the last word, "and when he woke up this morning his speech was well... different." Tony buried his hands in his face to avoid looking at either of the smirking assassins. 

"Right. Well, the changing supplies are over there." 

Tony never wanted to think about what happened next ever again.

* * *

Once Clint had finally managed to get a kicking Tony into a clean diaper, and an iron man snap onesie, he helped him up, and guided him into the kitchen. He couldn't help but chuckle a little at how cute Tony looked waddling shakily with his legs spread a touch to accommodate the diaper. In the kitchen, Bruce was busy cooking pancakes and scrambled eggs. He grinned at Tony when he entered the room. 

"Hey Iron Man! Look at you!" He picked him up, and swung him in the air making playful vrooming noises. Tony giggled childishly, before realizing what he was doing, and stopping abruptly. Bruce felt his heart melt a little at the noise. "Breakfast is almost ready bud. Clint, can you go grab his high chair from Steve?" Clint left momentarily, as Bruce settled Tony on his hip, and returned with not only a high chair, but a little plastic plate and utensils, as well as a sippy cup. Tony wrinkled his nose at the objects. Clint smirked and said, 

"If you cooperate, I'll let you have juice with your breakfast, even though it's way to sugary for the morning." He was teasing, but was surprised to see that Tony actually looked interested in the offer. He took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to slip Tony into the highchair, and fasten the straps. For the second time since he'd transformed, Tony began to cry. 

"No Cwint! Pwease!" Clint sighed and lifted Tony back up out of the chair. His face was pressed into Clint's shoulder, but he caught Bruce giving Clint a curious look. Tony felt the archer shrug underneath him. 

"His speech was changed when he woke up this morning." Tony huffed into Clint's arm as the tears slowed. The archer smiled down at the toddler, and carried him over to the fridge, holding the sippy cup in his other hand. He sat Tony down on the island, and filled the cup with apple juice, which was only in the fridge because Thor had recently discovered the beverage, and had suddenly gone through what could be described as an apple juice cleanse. He screwed the lid on, and tilted it towards the child, allowing him to calm down and begin enjoying his drink before transporting him back into the dreaded chair. This time, Tony only gave a soft whimper as he was clipped in. Clint handed him the sippy cup as the others began filing into the dining room. Bruce placed a Cap's shield shaped plate of eggs and cut up pancake on Tony's tray. By the time the other Avengers had finished loading up their plates and were beginning to eat, Tony was still frowning angrily at the plastic utensils he'd been given. Trying to encourage Tony to start eating too, Bruce lifted a spoonful of eggs towards Tony's mouth. Tony kicked and turned his head away, but after a few minutes of fussing and realizing that it wasn't deterring Bruce, Tony finally turned and accepted the food. Bruce smiled proudly, and offered the spoon to Tony, who snatched it from him. He tried to get another spoonful of eggs, but whined realizing it was a lot harder than he thought. Bruce gave Tony a sympathetic look before taking the spoon from him, and proceeding to feed him the whole plate of food, small bite by small bite. It was a slow process that took almost an hour. But, by the time they'd finished, everyone was still lounging in various places around the dining room drinking coffee, which much to Tony's chagrin he hadn't been offered any of. Tony found it strange that while the team rarely ate breakfast together (infact, rarely ate breakfast at all), they were all still sitting there long after they'd finished eating. Eventually, Bruce unbuckled Tony, and lifted him into his arms. 

"I'm going to take him down to the medibay to give him a check up. I realized I never got the opportunity to look him over yesterday." Tony squirmed at this, but Bruce ignored it. He smiled at the little boy in his arms seeing that his eyes were beginning to glaze over. "Tired already Tony?" Tony shook his head, trying to wake himself up.

"Body jus' wanna' sweep an' cwy." Tony frowned in frustration at his current situation, while Bruce on the other hand was laughing. He stopped in the living room to grab a few things from the pile of baby stuff Natasha had unpacked, careful to keep them out of Tony's eye line. He hoped that he could get Tony to take a nap in the medbay so he could do the checkup without complaints. "Wha' hiding?" Bruce shook his head,

"Nothing Tony." Tony looked disbelieving, but didn't press any further as they boarded the elevator. 

Down in the medibay, Bruce took Tony into a private room, and set the items from the pile on a counter, afterwards setting Tony down on the examination table. The toddler lay down on the table without being asked to. He still looked extremely tired. 

"Take a nap bud." Tony perked up just enough to give Bruce a nasty look. 

"No' tiwed!" Bruce hummed in disbelief. He decided that if he was going to present the baby items to Tony, he might as well do it sooner rather than later. He grabbed the iron man plush from the counter, and sat down on a stool in front of Tony presenting it to him. He raised his eyebrow, curious to see Tony's response. Tony pushed it away crankily, just as Bruce had expected.

"I'm gonna' have to draw blood Tony are you sure you don't want something to hold?" Tony still looked offended and cranky, but behind the look Bruce could see childish fear at the prospect of a needle. This time when he offered the toy to Tony, the little boy took it silently with a touch of pink in his cheeks. Bruce smiled and ran a comforting hand through Tony's hair before turning to prepare the materials needed to draw blood. He slipped on gloves, and turned back to the child. Tony had had blood drawn many times, and it never scared him, but this time he bit his lip and held the plushie closer as the needle punctured his skin. It wasn't til' the needle was retracted that tears flooded his eyes. Bruce placed a bandaid on Tony's arm, and kissed Tony's arm consolingly. This seemed to calm him down, and thankfully, the tears never fell. "You did so good," he said softly. "I want to have a look at the arc reactor now. Maybe you should try to sleep." Tony frowned, still looking red faced from the near-cry. 

"No' tiwed Bwuce." Bruce decided it was time to introduce the other item he'd grabbed from the pile. He ripped opening the packaging on the green hulk-themed pacifier he'd grabbed. He winced a little when he noticed the theme. He hadn't meant to do that. He turned to show Tony, who looked absolutely mortified. He must have been tired though, because he didn't protest when Bruce slipped in between his slightly open lips. It only took a seconds for him drift into sleep.

* * *

Tony woke in the playpen he'd seen being built earlier. In the crib with him was the iron man plushie, but now it was accompanied by the rest of the avengers. He rolled over, and sat up with some difficulty. Jarvis spoke up from the ceiling,

"Sir, would you like me inform to someone that you've waken?" Tony went to tell Jarvis to get someone to take him out of the cage he was in, but all that came out was a garbled noise, when he realized he still had a pacifier in his mouth. He spit it out promptly, looking at it with disgust before making his request to JARVIS. Natasha was the first to enter the room. 

"Hey babe. You had a long nap!" She commented as she picked him up. He rubbed his eyes trying to wake up as much as he could. "Steve is off briefing SHIELD on the situation, and Bruce is down in the lab checking your blood. So, you're stuck with Clint and I for the next few hours." She gave a small smile, but it was largest genuinely kind smile he'd ever seen her give. He nuzzled closer into Natasha. "Movie?" She asked him. He was happy that unlike the others, she was asking him what he wanted. He nodded,

"Yes pwease." Natasha settled on the couch with Tony cuddled on top of her. 

"JARVIS, can you please inform Clint that he's needed immediately in the communal living room?" Tony giggled when Clint entered a few minutes with his battle gear and weaponry, looking confused.

"Is there a mission?"

"No. We're watching a movie." 

"Oh. I thought it was something serious" Clint shot Natasha a nasty look as he settled next to her on the couch. 

"Movie is impor'an'!" Tony declared. Clint smiled and ruffled his hair. Tony turned in Natasha's lap to face the screen. Slowly, his fist made its way into his mouth as he began to relax.

"Don't chew on your hand Tony." Tony ignored her, and continued gnawing on his knuckles. He quickly learned that was the wrong choice when she reached down and grabbed a second pacifier off the pile of stupid baby stuff. She took the soother (this one was Thor-themed) out of the packaging, and wrestled Tony's hand from his mouth, before popping it in as a replacement. She held her finger over it for a moment, until Tony quit trying to spit it out. It really wasn't that bad once he got used to it, he just wished he didn't have an opportunity to get used to having a fricking pacifier in his mouth. He was an adult, but for some reason, none of them seemed to understand that. Clint ruffled his hair, 

"Sorry bud." 

"I'm not," deadpanned Natasha. "chewing on your fingers is gross, and bad for your teeth."

"Come on Nat, he's just a baby." Natasha referenced to Tony,

"He looks more uncomfortable with that statement than with the pacifier." Tony was getting tired of their arguing, and reached over to grab the remote from Clint. He was planning on playing the first movie he found just to get them to stop arguing. 

"Hey punk! Clint snatched back the remote from Tony. He selected _Star Wars: A New Hope._ All three of them settled down, and no one spoke after that, enjoying the movie. That was the way Bruce found them when he came upstairs an hour or so later. Natasha paused the movie to ask the scientist if he'd seen in anything in Tony's blood. 

"No. I'm not sure if I should be annoyed I didn't find anything to change him back, or glad his blood toxicity level isn't higher than it should be. All I can say is that we're lucky the arc reactor shrunk with him. Bruce sat down on the couch next to Clint, looking scruffy and tired. Tony sighed with satisfaction at the scene around him. Yeah, being two wasn't fun (actually Nat had informed him that Bruce had discovered he was just under two), but at least he had a team by his side to help him through it, and that made him feel pretty lucky. Little did he know that his night was going to take a turn for the worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who's reading both this fic, and my fic about Clint, which would you like to see an for first?


	3. Seeing the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's second night as a toddler is rough. Thankfully uncle Clint, and auntie Natasha are there to help him through it. 
> 
> This chapter's shorter than I initially intended, but I still really like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for the support and love I've been shown! Every kudos, hit, and comment goes a long way, and I never imagined so many people would enjoy my writing!!!

Dinner was from one of Tony's favourite take-out places, so he figured that the night would go pretty well from there on. Tony should have known that with his recent luck, things couldn't stay nice too long. He was busy contemplating how his night really wasn't going too badly while sitting in Steve's arms when it all started going down hill. The Avengers were seated around the communal living room, all (with the exception of Tony) filling out reports on the battle the day before. Steve was completing the paper work with one hand, while the other was wrapped around Tony's stomach. Clint approached the pair, taking the spot next to them on the couch and smiling at Tony. 

"You're just so sleepy today, aren't you squirt." Tony huffed and tried to ignore the archer, who reached out and tickled his chest. Tony wriggled in Steve's arms, trying to avoid both getting tickled more and letting out a childish giggle. 

"No Cwint!!!" This only encouraged the man. Clint snatched Tony from Steve's arms, and proceeded to tickle him all over. "Noooo! Cwint! Gonna'-" He was cut off by a sudden wash of dread, and an itchy hot feeling spreading through his diaper area. He'd just peed himself. While conscious. And, he hadn't even known he'd had to pee before hand. Tony bit his lip, and tried to ignore the urge to start sobbing. It would only make him seem more infantile, and that was a thought he couldn't handle at the moment. Clint must've noticed, because he stopped tickling Tony, but (thank god!), he didn't make any comments on it. He simply stood, grabbing the soother from where it'd been abandoned on the arm of the couch earlier, even though he figured he wouldn't need it.

"I think the kid needs a change. I can deal with it." Tony winced at the words as he was carried out of the room. Tony pressed his face into the archers shirt, choosing to focus on the subtle scent of bow wax and burnt coffee*, rather than accepting what Clint had said. "How did I get stuck with this job?" Clint muttered with no real bite in his voice as he walked into the washroom. Clint sat Tony on the ground, and he momentarily considered running, before remembering how well that went last time. Meanwhile, the archer had already gathered all the necessary supplies, and he patted the changing mat he'd laid out. "Lie down Tony." Despite how young he knew it made him look, Tony stuck out his bottom lip, and shook his head. Clint sighed and reached out to clasp Tony's tiny hands, and gently tug them till the little boy was closer to the mat. Tony struggled as he was gently but firmly lowered onto the mat, but he wasn't really trying seeing as he knew he was no match for the man lowering him. Clint recognized that this wasn't going to be easy, and decided maybe the soother would be needed after all. He tried to put it in Tony's mouth, but unlike last time Tony was more conscious and fought back squirming and throwing his head side to side. "Please babe." Clint's tone was soft, but desperate, "Why don't you just relax, and it can go by super quickly. Remember last time, how much the soother helped you calm down?" Tony continued squirming as he considered that. Then finally, he went limp and allowed the pacifier to pass through his lips. The archer, feeling deeply relieved, stroked Tony's hair, and murmured a few sweet nothings about what a good boy he was before he undid the buttons on the bottom of the onsie, and made quick work of changing Tony's diaper. For Tony, the change was still horribly uncomfortable (he especially couldn't stand the feeling of the cold wipes), but he couldn't deny that the soother was calming, and as long as he focused on rhythmically sucking on it, he didn't really have full awareness of the diaper change. Still, it surprised him as much as it did Clint when the archer went to tug the soother from Tony's lips and Tony let out a frustrated whine and clamped his lips around it. "You want to keep it bub?" Clint raised his eyebrows in mild amusement. Tony's cheeks went pink as he let out a muffled _yes please_ from behind the soother. Clint carried Tony back into the living room, where Tony expected he'd be returned to Steve, but instead, he was placed directly in that _stupid_ playpen, which was now lined with blankets. Clint smiled when he realized the blanket he was swaddling a very betrayed looking Tony in had Hawkeye spelled out on it in ASL. "Is everything JARVIS got him Avengers themed?" Clint laughed. Steve shrugged, 

"I'm beginning to think so." He looked to Tony, who he could see through the mesh was pouting dejectedly. This time he spoke quietly, "I think it's time we all went to our own floors, and let JARVIS keep an eye on him. I doubt he'll sleep otherwise." Tony wanted to tell Steve that he'd heard him, but he couldn't form entire sentences at the moment, especially with the soother taking up half his mouth. Instead he just gave a pitiful call for his teammates, thinking maybe one of them would have a heart and let him out.

"Na'!" she was the final name he tried, knowing she'd be tough to break. All the others had made their way out of the room by that point. 

"Sorry Tones. You gotta' go to sleep now." She leaned over the edge of the netting to plant a kiss on his forehead, to which he just huffed. He watched her longingly as she made her way to the elevator. Then, the lights went dim, and he was alone.

* * *

"Ms. Romanov, I'm very sorry to bother you," It was the early hours of the morning when Natasha was woken by an apologetic sounding JARVIS, "but young master appears to be in distress, and has requested your presence." Natasha groaned as she sat up to go see Tony. 

"Tell Clint to come too." Natasha was pretty good with kids, but seeing as Clint was a father, he was even better." 

When she reached the communal floor, she heard a soft whimper emanating from the corner of the room where the Playpen-turned-crib was, and even in the dim light, she could see that Tony's face was red and tear-streaked. 

"Oh baby." She murmured as she made her way over to him. He seemed to be in such a deep toddler state of mind, he didn't even hesitate to reach his hands up and whine desperately. She scooped him up in her arms, while at the same time collecting a blanket which'd been tossed, and the ironman teddy. The spy gently placed the the toy in Tony's arms, then swaddled him teddy and all in the blanket. Unlike any other time she'd held him, he made no attempts at squirming away, but rather settled instantly, a dead weight in her arms. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in when his eyes began to flutter closed, but then, Clint entered the room, and his eyes popped right back open again, pacifier bobbing quicker in his mouth. 

"How's the kid?" She rolled her eyes,

"He was starting to fall asleep 'til you walked in." Tony was still staring at Clint with glassy wide eyes.

"Judging by the looks of it, he would've woken up again whether I walked in or not. Besides, _you're_ the one who told me to come, remember?" The archer focused his attention on the baby, "Nightmare?" Natasha nodded. "I know how to get him to go to sleep again, but..." Clint smiled in a way Natasha found suspicious, "he's gonna' need another blanket."

* * *

A few minutes later, Tony found himself snug in two blankets and a hat, feeling very warm for the fact that he was outside on the roof of a skyscraper. Natasha was holding him tight in her arms, cradling him so that he was looking directly up at the indigo star speckled sky. Every few minutes Clints arm would venture into his eyeline, and he'd point at one star in particular,

"Look at that one bub!" His voice contained excitement, but remained soft. "That's Sirius, the most visible star from anywhere on earth." Tony blinked a few times as he tried to focus his eyes where Clint was pointing. Looking at the sky was dizzying, and every moment he was feeling more tired. After a few moments of staring at Canis Major as though in a trance, Tony surrendered to the sleep tugging at his eyes. Clint smiled knowingly at Natasha once he saw Tony's eyes were closed. "Told you. Seeing the stars always leads to a good sleep." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yes I did reference the Hawkeye comics.
> 
> Final note: I live in a rural area, but a friend just informed me that you cannot see the stars in most cities, which is terribly sad. However, I've decided that in my universe the stars are equally brilliant everywhere.


	4. No Need to be So Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're a celebrity and a superhero Tony. Putting on a brave face is in the job description. But you don't always have to be so brave. Sometimes you have to let yourself feel those feelings like hurt, and a hunger for comfort. Humans have those wants and feelings for a reason, so every once and a while, let yourself have them. It's for your own good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some mentions of child abuse, and Howard Stark's a+ parenting, so if that's not your jam, feel free to skip over this one. 
> 
> Also, yes I know I need to update "ABC easy as 1-2-3", but I was almost finished this chapter, and my third chapter for that fic, and I decided to post this one first. So, I promise I'll update that one in the next few days.

Tony woke up in someone's arms. His first thought was that he was still on the roof looking at the stars. His second thought was that the roof had never happened at all. It just felt so hazy and distant, almost like what was happening to him in the moment had actually happened hours ago. He peeled open his eyes expecting to see the moon and the stars dangling above his head, but instead he saw the guilty looking face of Bruce.

"Sorry Tony, I didn't mean to wake you up. You needed a change." Tony felt too tired to be embarrassed by that. He woke up a little though when he realized that Bruce was walking towards the playpen. He stirred in his friends arms. Bruce gave Tony an apologetic look as he lowered him into the pen. "I can't cook breakfast and carry you Tony." Tony scooted around a little once in the playpen, taking in his surroundings. All the stuffy versions of the avengers were still in there, along with a few other plush animals. Tony made sure Bruce was watching as he took the Hulk plush, and tossed it over the side of the playpen, making eye contact with the scientist as one of the toy's glass eyes made a satisfying click against the ground. Bruce sighed, and lowered himself to one knee so he and Tony were face to face through the netting. "You should try to go back to sleep for a little while anyways. I was told you stayed up a little too late last night. I should have known Barton would be a bad influence on you." Bruce smiled at Tony, but there was concern buried in the look that made him squirm. "Nat said you had a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce's face went serious. Tony shook his head furiously, and turned away from the scientist. Once Bruce had left the room, Tony made himself busy lining up the stuffies, before tossing them out of the playpen one by one. Next to go was the Hawkeye blanket, then the pillows, and lastly the pacifier. After everything had been tossed, Tony felt very content, however the contentment didn't last long, because pretty soon Clint came in, and he looked less than impressed with Tony. 

"Alright very funny. Now you get to clean it all up." The archer pulled a squirming Tony out of the playpen, and sat him down on the ground. Clint pointed to the closest toy, and Tony let out a hiss at him. "Tony, I'm being serious. Clean it up if you want to eat breakfast." Tony thought that was pretty harsh. Had Clint forgotten that he was an adult, and that he didn't get to boss him around? Tony crossed his arms, and stuck his tongue out. "You're being very immature Tony. We don't throw stuff." Clint had turned on his parent voice, and it really bothered him because he wasn't one of Clint's kids. Clint sighed, and the disappointment heavy in it sounded so familiar to Tony that it made him shudder. He was thinking about his father, the way his voice was always laden with disappointment, when Tony saw an arm reach out in the periphery of his vision. Without thinking Tony let out a piercing scream, throwing himself away from the hand and curling his body in on itself. He braced his head and waited for the impact of his fathers fist, but it never came. Instead there was a gentle voice, and a hand pressing into his back. "Tony? Tony baby, you're okay. You're safe baby." It took a few minutes for Tony to calm down enough to open his eyes. He looked up and saw that Clint and Bruce's worried faces were blurry. It was then that he realized that he was sobbing. "You're safe baby." Clint looked almost as scared as Tony felt, and he couldn't seem to stop repeating those words, not that Tony was complaining. The archer sat down in front of Tony cross-legged, and Tony climbed into his lap without being invited. Eventually, the gentle hands running through his hair and the soft words relaxed him to a much calmer state, and he was crying less aggressively. At some point, Clint had moved from the ground to the nearby couch, and Bruce had sat down next to them. It wasn't till Tony had stopped crying completely that Bruce reached over, slowly and careful not to spook Tony, and used his sleeve to wipe the last tears off of Tony's reddened face. Despite the gentleness of the touch, Tony couldn't resist a little flinch. He was a little more stable now though, and the calmer he got, the more humiliating the whole affair felt. 

"Sowwy."

"Don't be sorry Tony." Bruce's words were drenched in affection and concern, "What happened Tones?" Tony didn't answer at first, he just stuck his fist into his mouth, and chewed on it thoughtfully.

"Da'" Bruce furrowed his brows, 

"Dad?" Tony nodded shyly. Bruce knew somewhat what Tony's childhood had been like despite the fact that he didn't like to talk about it. But, he never thought that Tony's dad was actually physically abusing him. "Oh." Bruce paused, choosing his words carefully. "It's probably hard... going back to an age where someone was hurting you. Probably brings back some bad memories." Clint pulled Tony in tighter at these words, "Is that what your nightmare was about?" Tony nodded again, and this time it was accompanied with a little whimper. "I'm sorry. You don't have to be scared anymore Tony. You have a whole team of super heroes protecting you, and we'd never let anyone ever hurt you. Right Clint?" Clint nodded, and planted a kiss on Tony's head,

"Yeah, you're super safe with us bud. And, if you want, tonight we can move the crib into one of our rooms so that you're not alone." Tony turned and pressed his face into Clint's shirt to hide how relieved he was at that. Steve entered the room a few minutes later to the sight of Tony with his face nuzzled into Clint's shirt, probably unaware of the line of drool running out of his mouth onto him. Bruce was sitting close by wringing his hands anxiously. 

"Banner," Steve hesitantly greeted the scientist, "everything alright here?" Tony sat up at the voice and rubbed his fists over his eyes. His face turned red when he saw the Captain. 

"Yeah, we're all good." Bruce collected Tony from Clint. "I think maybe I'm gonna' go change Tony out of his pjs and let Clint explain everything to you." Bruce stood and left a very confused Steve alone with a very unusually sad looking Clint.

* * *

Bruce hummed quietly while he changed the little boy, not making any scolding comments as he pulled his fist out of his mouth and replaced it with a soother. He put him in the softest outfit he could find, which happened to include a shirt that said "Avenger in Training" on it. Occasionally he'd reach up and stroke Tony's hair or face, and he'd softly murmur,

"You're okay baby." or other phrases like that. Tony didn't respond at all, just lay there sucking methodically on his pacifier, and watching Bruce with something akin to childlike curiosity. It made Bruce wonder if adult Tony was even in there at all. His question was answered when Tony began speaking though. At first it was muffled, and Bruce had to pull the soother out of the toddler's mouth and let him repeat himself. 

"Didn' caw me baby befo'." Bruce looked sheepish,

"No, I suppose I didn't. I can stop if you want." Tony shook his head,

"Don' mind. Sowwy I cwy. I ac' wike baby. Suppose' be mo' bwave" Tony's speech was so infantile by that point, it did something funny to Bruce's heart.

"You know Tony," he helped the small child into a sitting position, then pulled him into his lap. "your dad hurt you, and that's no small thing. So, no matter what age you are, crying about that is not a babyish, or cowardly act. It's perfectly valid Tony. Another note, it may be difficult to accept, but you _are_ a baby right now, and it's normal for babies to cry and feel scared. Just please stop apologizing, and start accepting that we're all gonna' be here to comfort you when you do cry and act like a baby, and it's nothing to be embarrassed about." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into Tony's still sluggish morning brain. "You're a celebrity and a superhero Tony. Putting on a brave face is in the job description. But you don't always have to be so brave. Sometimes you have to let yourself feel those feelings like hurt, and a hunger for comfort. Humans have those wants and feelings for a reason, so every once and a while, let yourself have them. It's for your own good." Tony had shifted a little so that his big eyes were peering into Bruce's, as though he was investigating to see if the man's statements had been genuine. Then, he nodded his small head slowly and pressed it back against Bruce's stomach.

The pair stayed like that for a few minutes, until Clint came looking for them to tell them like breakfast was ready. When Tony thought about it, maybe Bruce was right. This was the most vulnerable and small he'd felt in years, and while it felt terrible, it also felt really good.

* * *

Nobody mentioned what had happened earlier, or what Tony was sure Clint had told them, but he did notice that all of the Avengers seemed extra cuddly. In fact, he was pretty sure he was passed around so much his feet probably didn't even touch the ground once all morning. He also noticed that each member of the team would default to a unique compulsive movement when they held him. Bruce would stroke his hair like he still needed comforting, while Natasha would bounce him playfully like she was hoping to make him forget the events of the morning. Steve held him the least, but when he did he'd hold him tight like he was protecting him from everyone and everything. Clint, well Clint couldn't stop pressing kisses into his forehead, and murmuring so softly it was inaudible to Tony. It wasn't till after lunch a few hours later that he became tired of being carried. When he finished eating and Clint unclipped him and pulled him out of the highchair he wriggled in the man's arms until he was set down on the floor. His legs were still a little shaky, but he managed to toddle his way into the living room a little bit faster than he'd been able to a day before. He ran over to the couch, huffing in frustration as he quickly realized that he wouldn't be able to get up without help. Steve, who was sitting on the couch, pulled Tony up by his armpits and sat him down next to him, then continued working in the sketch book he'd been previously drawing in. Tony, not interested in just sitting there, reached up and used Steve's shoulder to balance him as he stood to get a better vantage point of what Steve was drawing. It took him a few minutes to recognize the little boy on the page. His hair was curlier than Tony remembered his hair being, and his cheeks were lifted and shaded in to give the impression that the child was smiling and laughing. Tony lifted his hand to his head, and looked adorably surprised as he realized that his hair was apparently much curlier as a baby than as an adult. Steve smiled at the confused little boy,

"I drew you. I hope that's ok." Tony nodded and giggled. Steve felt very pleased and relieved that Tony liked it. "Do you want to draw Tony?" Tony paused for a moment this time, considering if he really wanted to draw; it felt very childish. But, in the end he nodded his head. Steve got up from the couch and went over to the pile of toys. He pulled out a pack of markers, and book of different coloured craft paper. He brought the supplies back over to the couch where Tony was waiting, and handed them to him. He looked at them thoughtfully before choosing a blue piece of paper and a red marker. Steve quit his feeble attempts to continue to draw, seeing as watching Tony scribble with such determination was more interesting. He had his tongue stuck out of one side of his mouth, and was drawing each wobbly line with deep concentration. After a while, Steve was able to piece together that the red stick was Ironman, while the green blob was the hulk, the yellow scribbles were presumably Thor's lighting, and the two black stick figures were probably Clint and Natasha. The only person left to draw was Steve. First he watched Tony draw a red circle, than draw a line behind it. He smiled knowing that the red circle was his shield. Tony sat down the marker and pouted at his work. Seeing as he was an engineer, he was usually pretty good at accurate drawings, so it was bothering him that his hands seemed to be betraying what he wanted to draw. Steve sensed Tony's frustration, and felt an instant need to make him feel better. "Is this the Avengers?" Tony nodded shyly, "Wow! It's really good bud! I'm super impressed!" Tony looked disbelieving, but Steve just kept on smiling at him, and eventually Tony smiled back. Steve further humored the kid by leaving the room for a quick moment to stick the drawing to the fridge with a magnet, claiming that art as fine as that had to be displayed. When he returned, he asked Tony if he'd like to do a second drawing, but Tony's yawn in response told him that it was time for a nap instead. "I think it's time for a nap bud." Steve observed cheerfully. He reached his arms out to the little boy, offering him a space in his arms. He expected Tony to be frustrated or embarrassed at the prospect of a nap, but he certainly didn't expect him to look so scared. Steve lowered his arms a little, trying but failing to not let the worry seep into his voice. "What's wrong Tones?" Tony crossed his arms sheepishly and curled in on himself a little, 

"Don' wanna sweep." Tony's gaze was downcast, "Scawed of nigh'mawes." Steve dropped his arms completely, unsure how to proceed. He wasn't exactly great with kids, let alone traumatized two-year-olds who were actually adult billionaires. 

"I see." he cleared his throat, "Well, I suppose just this once you don't have to sleep in the crib... then you wouldn't be alone" He looked to Tony, trying to gauge his response to the idea, "you could just have a nap here on the couch." Tony considered the idea for a moment, even though on the whole he looked very happy about the plan. "But," Steve continued, "this can't become a habit Tony. We don't want you falling off furniture in your sleep." Tony scoffed at that, but was already slowly tipping over to go to sleep. Steve chuckled as he caught him before his head hit the couch, and placed it on his lap instead. Tony fell asleep against the warmth of Captain America, with fingers running through his hair, and the soft din of his teammates chatting. Maybe taking naps wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

_"When I had a kid, I expected him to be brilliant, but you... you do nothing but disappoint me Anthony."_ _His father's words were slurred with alcohol, but still had enough bite behind them to make Tony flinch. He saw the swing coming before he felt it, and focused all his energy on holding in the scream that erupted from his lips anyways. "Feeling the need to make a scene? Honestly Anthony!"_

"Tony!" Tony writhed, feeling himself venture in and out of consciousness. "Tony, please stop screaming baby." He didn't even notice he'd been screaming till a voice told him to stop.

"You're okay now. You're safe." This voice was softer, and higher. He assumed it was connected to whoever was lifting him off of the couch and into their arms. He opened his eyes to see the normally blank face of Natasha, heavy with sympathy and concern. "There you go baby." She cooed at him as he stopped wriggling in her hold. 

"No' a baby." He murmured, his voice still hoarse from screaming. Natasha just smirked at that statement, and held up his Hulk pacifier in offering. Tony nodded, avoiding looking at the assassin as she placed it between his lips and let out another soft coo. 

"Nightmare?" Her face fell into a very suddenly serious look. Tony nodded, not wanting to speak around the pacifier. "Oh Tones." She tugged him in closer. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" Tony shook his head, looking the most scared any of the Avengers had ever seen him. Bruce, who Tony hadn't previously noticed was in the room, cleared his throat.

"Sometimes when I have nightmares, I'll do a puzzle." The scientist said thoughtfully as he dug through a pile of toys, looking for something in particular. After a few moments, he extracted a 200 piece Avengers themed puzzle. Bruce wasn't sure if it would be too easy for Tony because of his mental age, or too hard because of his dexterity, but either way he figured they could work on it as a team. "You want to give this one a try." Tony inspected the puzzle for a moment before reaching out his arms and leaning towards Bruce, who sat down the puzzle to accept the child. He sat down next to Steve with Tony on his lap. Clint soon joined him, along with Natasha, and together, the Avengers slowly but surely constructed the puzzle on the coffee table by each taking ownership over the part of the puzzle that featured them. Building the puzzle did turn out to be difficult for Tony with his unsteady toddler hands, but even at two Tony Stark was a genius, so he wasn't much slower than anyone else in the group.

* * *

An hour or so later, Thor arrived with news from Asgard. He assured the group that the beasts who attacked earth had been tracked down, and were facing Asgardian justice. He also said that he'd have to leave the next morning to return to his home planet, but that he could stay the night. At first Tony seemed abnormally timid around Thor, and Bruce theorized that perhaps after his nightmare, this loud unfamiliar man might have been a bit much for Tony's small brain. But, Thor was nothing but gentle and patient with the toddler, and eventually the two were getting along well. Tony ended up spending most of the evening riding on the God's shoulders. 

It was a calm night in all. After finishing the puzzle and eating dinner, the team watched a movie, and pretty soon came the time for Tony to go to sleep. He began drifting off during the movie in an armchair, being held by Clint. This was convenient seeing as the playpen had been moved to the archer's floor. Initially Tony had requested that it be moved to Bruce's floor, but the scientist still seemed to have an irrational fear that the Hulk would come out while Tony was nearby, so he delicately told Tony that Clint's room might be better. 

"Getting tired sweetheart?" It was a new nickname, and if Tony hadn't been too tired to care, he would've stuck his tongue out at the archer.

"No." The lie wasn't very effective seeing as Tony yawned right afterwards, but Clint didn't call him out on it, because he knew that Tony was probably scared of going to sleep alone. 

"Hmmmm. Well, why don't you try to go to sleep anyways." He said the next part quieter, "I'm right here with you, so you're not alone bud. And then, I can just move you into you're crib when you're already asleep. "Tony considered the option, but still shook his head. 

"No' tiwed Cwint!" Clint frowned, but it wasn't an angry or disappointed frown, it was more of a _trying to solve a problem_ frown. 

"What if you had a bath, and then you went to bed?" Tony looked uncomfortable at the prospect of being given a bath, but he also realized that he hadn't had a bath the day before, and his diaper was also currently soiled (not that he planned on telling anyone that). He finally gave the Archer permission to carry him down to his floor for a bath. When Clint stripped him out of his clothes on a towel in the bathroom, he seemed a little frustrated that Tony hadn't told him he needed a change.

"I don't want you to get a rash Tony." He scolded lightly, as he threw out the diaper. He let Tony reach his hand in and check the temperature before he placed him in the bath. Tony appreciated how gentle Clint was as he scrubbed his hair, and grateful that he left Tony to wash the rest of his body himself. After the bath, Clint wrapped Tony in a fluffy towel and scooped him up into his arms. "All your stuff is upstairs." Clint explained apologetically as he carried him towards the elevator. "I figured you wouldn't want to wait down here by yourself." Tony knew that Clint was right, but he still didn't want to face the rest of the group wearing nothing but a towel. When they got to the communal floor, Natasha and Thor were lounging in the living room. Tony figured this week had to be the most the communal floor had been used since he'd had it built. 

"Greetings young friend!" Thor greeted cheerfully. Tony lifted one arm from within his towel cocoon to wave meekly. 

"Tired yet?" Natasha asked with the start of a smirk on her lips. Tony huffed and shook his head. Clint smiled tiredly at the other spy,

"He reminds me of Lila. She'd never sleep when she was his age." This earned him a weak kick from Tony. Natasha laughed and set down the glass of Russian tea she'd been drinking,

"Why don't you let me deal with him for a while. He likes me more anyways, don't you зайчик?" She accepted Tony from Clint, careful not to let his towel drop during the transfer. When Natasha changed him, it was much faster than the others. There were no words exchanged. No time wasted talking about how good he was doing. It barely took two minutes, which put Tony at ease, because he wasn't sure how long he could handle being naked in front of her. She put him in a snap onesie that had a fake shield badge illustrated on it with the words "Agent Barton" written under it. She laughed a little at that, while Tony didn't find it amusing in the least. "Clint's gonna love that." She declared as she picked him up. "Still not tired?" He didn't even have to respond, just frown at her for her to get the message. She sighed quietly, and carried him into the kitchen. She sat him on one hip as she opened multiple cupboards, obviously looking for something. After a few minutes, she pulled out a bottle. _No!_ he thought, _Abso-fucking-lutely not._ But, she was already filling it with milk, and opening the microwave. One minute later, the microwave chirped cheerfully, and Tony leaned as far away from Natasha as he could as she pulled the bottle out of the microwave and screwed on the lid. She carried the squirming baby into the living room, and sat on a chair. "Come on Tony, it'll help you fall asleep." 

"Does milk really help people sleep?" Clint asked from across the room. Natasha shot him a death stare to thank him for his _help_. 

"Actually," Bruce started shyly from the couch, "Milk is one of the few foods that contains the amino acid tryptophan, which can help encourage the brain to produce serotonin." Wow, Natasha hadn't expected Bruce to help her. She figured he was gonna' say something about how milk aiding sleep was a myth. Tony looked at Bruce with raised eyebrows, and when he nodded, Tony pulled at the bottle so that he was partially supporting it himself, and took a hesitant drink. Natasha smiled at him proudly as he drank a more sips. Pretty soon his eyes began to flutter, and Natasha took the bottle from him so he could sleep. "спокойной ночи рыбка." She murmured. He'd have to ask JARVIS what that meant tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoah, this was a lot longer than I planned. Also, I'm lowkey nervous right now because I've travelled a few times to a nearby city to go to the hospital because they're trying to diagnose me with a lung disease. But anyways, I'm not able to go to school right now, and I've been in the diagnosis process since last March, so right now I'm just really ready for all the tests to be over, even if they give me bad news. I'm just glad I have writing to keep me (slightly) sane while I'm stuck in bed.


	5. Trip to the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony goes to the park for the first time, and it's overwhelming to say the least. Thankfully our two favourite assassins are there to help!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've been gone. Things got worse with my health, but they're getting better, so I'm back to writing!
> 
> Yes, Clint is deaf. Anything in bold is SEE, because despite the fact that I know ASL, I'm still terrible at the grammar, and I don't want to mess it up.
> 
> I finally gave this chapter a name, after realizing it was the only one without a name. \\(^o^)/

Tony woke up once more in the playpen, and he instantly felt claustrophobic. He sat up slowly, and looked towards the window. It was dark outside, so he figured it was probably too early to be awake, but there was a heavy feeling building up in his chest, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stand being alone in the crib. Softly, he whispered the archer's name somehow hoping to both not wake the man up so he could sleep till a more godly hour, but also wake him up so he could provide him with comfort. After a few moments of watching Clint's unmoving body he felt tears building in his eyes.

"Cwint!" He whimpered a little louder this time. Pressing his hands against the netting and shifting up onto his knees. By this point there were tears running down his face. He whimpered a few more times before the archer suddenly snapped up in his bed. Tony's crying slowed immediately when he saw the archer was awake. 

"Sorry babe," Clint stood up and made his way over to the playpen. "have you been awake long? Stupid baby monitor was supposed to alert me if you cried. He referenced a thick black bracelet he had snapped around his wrist. It must have been one of those vibrating monitors for deaf parents, which meant that Clint didn't have his hearing aids in. Tony hadn't even thought about that before, but now that he was paying attention he noticed that Clint was speaking with a slight slur. He knew that Clint preferred to sign when he didn't have his aids in, so he decided to attempt to use SEE, feeling a little bit nervous about how it would go with his current hand coordination skills. He used the rim of the playpen to pull himself up to standing, and signed,

**"Up, please."** feeling grateful that those were literally the two easiest signs in the world. Clint smiled as he picked him up and planted a kiss on his head. Pretty soon Tony's crying ceased completely. Clint sat him down on the bed, and signed to him,

**"You feel better?"** Tony sniffed a little, but nodded. **"Good. Will go shower now."** Tony signed that he would be fine by himself, and tried not to reach after the archer as he went into the washroom. He couldn't afford to look anymore clingy and childish than he already did. Clint returned a few minutes later wearing pants but no shirt, with his hair still damp from the shower. He pulled on a shield t-shirt that he found in one drawer, then opened another drawer and pulled out a diaper and baby clothes. He popped in his hearing aids and sat the baby monitor bracelet he was holding on the nightstand before he went over to Tony. "Figured that if you're sleeping in my room, I might as well keep your clothes and stuff in here." He explained. Tony lay back on the bed, and mumbled incoherent babble as he waited for Clint to finish changing him. Clint held in a laugh at the sound, figuring that Tony probably didn't know about it, and not wanting to embarrass him. After he was finished he helped him to the ground, and held his hands out for Tony to steady himself with as they walked towards the elevator. While on the elevator, Clint picked Tony up, and placed him on his hip. Tony reached up his hand, and latched onto the neckline of Clint's shirt. Tony was less connected to his adult side than Clint had ever seen him. He barely spoke except for the same unintelligible garble, and his hands were wandering like he wanted to touch everything. At one point, he even reached up and tapped Clint's hearing aid as though he was curious what it was. Clint gently swatted the hand away from his ear, and used the hand that wasn't supporting Tony to hold the tiny child's fingers in his. "You in there Tones?" he asked teasingly as he ran his thumb over Tony's knuckles. The little boy twisted his head to look at Clint with his big brown eyes, and it took a moment for Tony's face to shift from curious toddler to embarrased adult. 

"Yeah. Sowwy." Clint smiled softly at him, feeling a little bit bad about making Tony self conscious. 

"It's okay. Probably just the spell's effects getting stronger huh?" He kept Tony's hand in his as he carried him into the communal kitchen. By the time they'd gotten over to the island where bruce was pouring himself a bowl of cereal, it seemed Tony had slipped entirely back into his toddler mindset, because he reached out greedily for the scientist the moment he saw him.

"Bwuce!" Bruce looked surprised as he accepted Tony from Clint.

"I think the spell got stronger overnight, because he's acting more like a toddler than I've seen him before." Bruce raised his eyebrows at Clint as he tugged Tony's hand out of his hair. 

"Yeah, I'd say so." Bruce sat back down, as Clint poured bowls of cereal for both him and Tony. The toddler still looked a little bit frustrated when Clint buckled him into his highchair, but made no verbal complaints, and got over it pretty quickly when he was handed a sippy cup of apple juice. Tony still had a hard time feeding himself, but he was able to as long as the cutlery was small and plastic, and he was wearing a bib. Natasha entered the kitchen a few minutes into their meal, and Tony started bouncing excitedly in his seat. He threw one of his hands in the air in a wave and subsequently knocked over his cereal bowl, spilling cereal down his front. At first tears flooded to his eyes, but then it was as though the shock of the event sent him back into an adult mindframe, and he suddenly looked less upset and more embarrassed. "Hey, it's okay Tones! No need to cry." Tony looked away from the scientist as he collected him from the seat and cooed. 

"No' gonna' cwy." He mumbled weakly. Bruce looked relieved as he returned him into the seat.

"You back adult Tony?" It was the strangest question he'd ever heard the scientist ask him. He nodded, swallowing down the mortification when the scientist redid the buckle over his lap. Thankfully, because of the bib he didn't need to be changed, but Bruce insisted on feeding him the rest of his cereal so they wouldn't have any more spills. Throughout the whole meal Tony continued to bounce impatiently in his seat, till finally Clint commented on it. He signed to Bruce, probably assuming for some reason that Tony wouldn't understand him. 

**"I think Tony getting restless in tower for so long."** The toddler huffed in denial, and Bruce took it as an opportunity to spoon more cereal into his open mouth. He munched angrily as he signed 

**"No no no no no!"** The archer laughed and ruffled his hair,

"I was just thinking maybe we could take you to the park." Tony's eyes widened, and he whipped around in his seat to look at the archer. 

"Pa'k?" Clint laughed more at Tony's pronunciation,

"Yeah bud, pa'k. Nat and I can take you. Bruce, you can come to if you want, I just figured you'd probably be busy with some project." Bruce nodded to the archer,

"That I am, but I can take him another time. The only one here who can't take him to the park is Steve." He smiled apologetically at the Captain, who'd just entered the room. "The media would have a field day if word spread that Captain America has a kid." The scientist wiped the milk moustache off of Tony before releasing him from the highchair. Adult Tony was in no way present, and the toddler was bouncing excitedly and clinging to Clint's pant leg. 

"Go pa'k!" Clint reached down and patted Tony's head, 

"Patience bud, I've gotta go set up the stroller." Tony shrieked in surprise as two unwelcomed arms wrapped around his stomach and lifted him off the ground, but he calmed instantly when he realized i was just the other resident spy, and even let out a giggle as she bounced him. 

"Come on Малыш, let's go pack you a diaper bag." Natasha left the room carrying an excited Tony in her arms, and returned a few minutes later with an Avengers themed backpack stuffed with the necessary changing supplies along with a soother, a sippy cup, and a box of animal crackers. Clint thought his partner was a shockingly competent babysitter, and was highly impressed that she knew what one should bring along in a diaper bag, let alone what a diaper bag even was. Tony seemed compliant, eager even, to be carried around by the spy as she tugged tiny shoes and a coat onto him, and got him ready for the park. However, the moment he saw the stroller, his facial expression shifted completely, and it was obvious he was back to his adult mind set. 

"No stwo.. stowah!" He struggled to wrap his mouth around the word. Clint shook his head sympathetically,

"Sorry, but it's not an option." Tony whined,

"No!" He huffed and kicked his little feet, nearly sending his shoes flying, "No' ac' wike baby!" It took Clint a moment to piece together what the toddler was trying to say,

"I know you're not acting like a toddler now, but we both know you're gonna' shift back in a few minutes. Besides, it doesn't matter what you're acting like, because you won't be able to walk all the way to the park either way. Tony whined, and kicked rudely at Natasha as she sat him in the stroller, but settled once she gave him a stern look, knowing when he'd lost a fight.

* * *

Tony was still whiny on the way to the park, nearly having a fit when one lady passing by told Natasha that she had the cutest baby. What upset him even more than the comment was the way she just rolled with it, thanking the lady as though Tony was in any way shape or form her child. Tony very childishly decided that he hated that lady. He continued compiling a list of things he hated as they proceeded to the park. At the top of that list was the strap in between his legs that pressed awkwardly on his diaper every time he moved, and reminded him he was wearing one. A very close second on his list was diapers themselves, which he often grumbled about in mumbled baby language that he didn't realize no one could understand. By the time they got to the park, he'd made it all the way to item number 16 which was stupid Clint who wouldn't stop taking photos of him with his stupid camera. 

"You're cute when you're angry." Clint announced teasingly, "But, you don't need to whine anymore, because we've _finally_ made it to the park." He stretched out his words dramatically in an impressive impression of adult Stark. Surprising both spies, Tony only looked excited for a moment, before his face contorted in fear. "Come on buddy," Clint tickled Tony's tummy gently as he undid the clasp to the straps that were restraining his movement. "don't you want to go meet some other kids?" He helped the little boy out of the stroller, and expected him to go running towards the playground, but instead he flapped his hands in a movement that vaguely resembled the sign for scared, before reaching towards the archer with wide eyes. Clint scooped him up, placing him on his hips so that he could see the whole park instead of facing the child towards himself. "Did you ever go to the park when you lived with your parents bud?" Tony ducked his chin, and shook his head. 

"No, bu' Ja'bis and me would pway in the house." Clint hummed,

"So, I guess you didn't get to play with a lot of other kids your age, huh?" Tony nodded again, this time a little more sheepishly, and his expression held more adult remembrance than was usual displayed on a two-year-old's face. "Well then it's good you have Natasha and I here!" Clint sounded more cheerful, and was bouncing the baby a little. "Let's go over to the playground. You'll see it's not scary." Clint carried Tony over to the nearest playground equipment (a kiddie slide), and set him on the ground, hopeful that he'd approach it on his own. But, Tony just looked at it warily like the plastic slide might bite him. Clint sighed, realizing he was probably going to have to go on the playground if he wanted to convince Tony it was fun. His kids had been a lot more independent in their play by this age, but he figured that was probably because the didn't have the same neglectful and damaging childhood as Tony. The pity made his heart ache, and it motivated him to take the little boy by his hands, and guide him up the stairs towards the slide.

He looked around, and saw natasha lingering at the edge of the park, right where the cement met the wood chips with her face twisted in a strange half smile. Clint realized that his partner had probably had less experience in playgrounds than Tony did. He ignored the second wave of pity that washed through him, because she was an expert at reading faces, and she'd be able to catch any hint of pity on his face. Besides, they had an unspoken agreement between them that they _never_ pitied each other. In Natasha's words, pity was a useless emotion that only succeeded in getting in the way. Still, he couldn't keep himself from waving her over. 

"Come on Nat! He needs someone to catch him at the bottom." Nat raised his eyebrows at him, but walked over to the pair with her face void of any negative emotions. 

"Okay Tony!" Her face brightened exponentially as she reached her arms towards the toddler who was looking less scared every moment. "I'm ready when you are!" Clint gave Tony a gentle pushed, and watched as he slid right into Natasha's waiting arms, shrieking with laughter. He smiled to himself when the kid hopped out of Nat's hold, and began climbing the stairs on all fours. He felt an odd sense of pride at how quickly Tony was getting this whole playing at the playground thing. Yeah, the kid was gonna be alright.

* * *

Natasha and Clint spent the next half an hour showing Tony around the playground before the little boy finally toddled over to a sandbox where a girl around a year or so older than Tony was playing with the toys scattered in the box. He seemed captivated by the toy robot that the girl was playing with. Clint lifted him up over the edge of the sandbox, and sat him down close to the girl, who turned out to be very hospitable and instantly asked him to play. Once Tony seemed to be fully over his nerves of playing with another child, the two adults settled on a bench nearby. 

"Admit it," Clint poked his partner in her side, "you're having fun." She pursed her lips, but it shifted into a smile.

"Who said I wouldn't? You know I love kids."

"I thought you just love my kids." Natasha shrugged at that,

"I thought so too. But, there's something special about Tony, you know? I thought he was gonna be a bratty child, but he's actually much more well mannered than he is as an adult."

The two assassins proceeded to do something that they hadn't done in a long time; they just talked. They laughed about jokes only they understood, and Clint caught Natasha up on how his kids were doing by showing her the photos on a hidden file on his phone. They'd both peer over to Tony every few minutes, making sure he was still alive and all, but it was in a moment that neither of them were looking that disaster struck. Natasha was sitting on the bench swiping through photos of Cooper in a boy scouts uniform, and Clint was over by a coffee stand getting drinks for himself and Nat, when a piercing scream rang out from over by the sandbox. Natasha sprung into action, immediately recognizing the voice, but froze momentarily when the child she saw lying face flat on the ground called out the single solitary word that couldn't be used to describe her.

"Mama!" Clint caught up to her. 

"I think he wants you mama bear." He was obviously teasing her, but she still wasn't quite ready to move yet. Clint must have seen that she was in no rush to go console the child, because he stepped in front of her with a slight sigh, and collected the child into his arms. It wasn't until Tony pulled his face out of where he'd buried it in Clint's shirt, and reached out for her with his face twisted in anguish, that she finally snapped out of it and accepted the sobbing baby into her hold. 

"Mamama." Tony was repeating the same two letter over and over again, though it was muffled because he'd nuzzled his face into her shoulder. 

"I know Anton. It's okay." The spy continued to murmur gently to the child as she carried him over to the stroller. "You're okay." He'd pretty much stopped crying by the time she'd gotten him situated in his seat. "Such a handsome boy," she commented as she marveled at his big doe eyes, "though I'd never tell adult Tony that, cause it'd go straight to his head." Baby Tony just continued chewing on his knuckles, and staring at her like he didn't quite understand. Clint passed her a pacifier, which she coaxed into the baby's mouth. When she looked back at her partner, she noticed he was looking at her with the same look plastered on his face that she'd had moments ago when she was looking at Tony. Yeah, he deserved to be punched in the nuts for that one, but instead she settled for flicking him on his head before she returned her focus to clipping in Tony. The toddler let out a defiant whine when she reached in between his legs fishing for the clip to buckle him in, and she paused for a moment, noticing while her hand was under his butt that his diaper was definitely used. She sighed, and much to Tony's complaint, picked him up out of the stroller, and with a telling look at Clint, carried him over to the public washrooms nearby.

* * *

Once inside the washroom, Tony's complaints grew in volume when he realized the changing table wasn't in a stall, but out in the open. 

"Shhh Tony," Natasha cooed at him as she did the straps over his tummy, "you're a baby, remember? No one's in here, but if anyone was, they wouldn't care." Natasha laughed at Tony, whose fingers had been making their way up to his mouth, before being stopped by the pacifier, and leaving him with a confused look on his face as he tried to remember what was in his mouth. He shot her a nasty look, telling her that he was definitely at least partially adult at the moment. For that reason, she changed his diaper quickly, choosing not to patronize him like the others did by praising him while changing him. She grimaced when she realized that he was developing a diaper rash, and that baby powder wasn't going to cut it. Tony hated it when they put diaper cream on him, last time she'd tried he'd cried about how cold it was, and she wasn't ready to have a crying baby on her hands again. Pulling the tube out of the backpack, she decided to try warming it up a little by keeping it on her fingers for a few moments before applying it, and it must have worked a little, because while he whimpered and squirmed, he didn't cry like last time. 

Natasha carried him back out to Clint, and smiled as she realized that he was fighting off sleep in her arms. She settled him in the stroller once more, placing a blanket she'd tucked in the backpack around his shoulders, and lowering the hood of the stroller without any complaints from Tony, who was already asleep. 

"I think that any drastic changes in emotion are what's causing him to shift mindsets." Natasha informed her partner thoughtfully. He nodded, with that stupidly proud smile still plastered on his face. 

"Remind me to tell Bruce, he'll probably want to record that or something." He elbowed her as they began to leave the park. "You did good today Nat." Natasha ducked her head at the praise, mainly because it was stupid. Anyone could take a baby to the park. Well, maybe not anyone in her line of work. 

"Shut up." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last note - How do you guys say "Favourite"? Because, I used that word in today's chapter, and I realized the spelling depends on where you are in the world, which is totally whacky.


	6. Safe No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a cute little Nat comforting Tony snippet that I probably could've posted as part of the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short, I know, but super ooey gooey heart stuff!

Tony woke up at the tower in Clint's arms, which had become a pretty typical position for him to find himself in, but this time something felt different. He peeled his face off of Clint's chest, and sat up, observing instantly that he was on the communal floor of the tower. 

"Hey babe, feeling better?" That's when Tony realized the difference; an hour or so ago he wouldn't have noticed the pet name, but right now he felt like it was wrong. He felt undeniably bigger than he'd been the past two days (not in size, but in emotion). 

"No' a baby." Clint raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "Sewiouswy Cwint!" He perked up a little at the fact that his speech seemed slightly better. "Feew biggah." Clint held back a coo at the confused look plastered on Tony's baby face. 

"Figured you'd feel that way," Clint stated nonchalantly, "Natasha and I worked out the secret to your condition after your little meltdown at the park." Tony did a poor job of hiding a blush. "You shift from adult to toddler mindset whenever you have a big change in emotion." Tony looked intrigued by the statement, and for some reason relieved. 

"So, if I don' cwy, I don' be wittew?" It wasn't a particularly elegantly phrased question, but the archer appeared to get the gist of it, because his facial expression changed drastically. 

"Tony, remember your talk with Bruce?" Tony felt entirely betrayed that his science bro had told the other Avengers about their talk, but still nodded. "So, you remember him telling you that you can't deny yourself emotions just because you don't want to be childish?" Tony nodded, a little more sheepishly this time. "Good. I just thought I'd remind you. You hungry?" Tony could've probably gone for a snack, but he shook his head, scared to do anything in case something made him slip into his other mindset. He just wanted to sit in the archer's arms, unmoving and enjoying the experience of having perfectly clear adult thoughts. Still, Clint was insistent, and that's how Tony found himself sitting on the couch with a bowl of animal crackers. Clint was next to him, and they were watching a tv show that was surely too mature for a toddler, but Clint stopped protesting when Tony started quoting the show and Clint realized that watching the show could do no harm if Tony had already seen it.

Part way through the episode, Tony somehow ended up on Clint's lap, and that's how Natasha found the pair. 

"Think you could put down the child for one minute of your life and come train with me?" Clint gave her a shit-eating grin,

"So, as in child, do you mean your child 'mama'?" Natasha gave the archer a look that could kill braver men on sight, and Clint ducked his head in a movement that looked suspiciously like begging for forgiveness. Tony knew that if he was anyone else, Clint would probably already be dead. He sighed, and lifted Tony off his lap onto the couch. "We can't leave the rugrat unattended, can we?" 

"Put him in the playpen and turn on Dora or something." Tony wanted to protest, but after the park, he didn't want to talk to Natasha at all. 

"Well, I don't think he'll be interested in Dora, but a nap may do him some good. He didn't sleep long and he still looks sleepy. Tony broke his silence towards Natasha almost instantly when she picked him up and started towards the playpen. 

"No Na'! No' baby!" She smiled at him gently,

"You may not be a baby, but you're still small and fragile, and I'm not letting you get injured 'cause you roll off the couch in your sleep."

"I wesen' ebewyt'ing you jus' said." Natasha furrowed her brow in confusion, 

"I think he said 'resent everything'" Clint supplied with a chuckle. Tony's protests did nothing to sway Natasha from putting him in the playpen. 

"You're not even a little tired Anton?" The toddler just shook his head furiously, despite the fact that his eyes were drooping. 

"Don' wanna sweep." 

"Why not?" Natasha was being uncharacteristically patient. Clint, on the other hand, had already left for the gym. 

"Gonna wake up diffewen'" Natasha pursed her lips and looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment,

"If you're really that concerned about it, I don't think that sleeping will change you. I do think that making a fuss and having a tantrum will make you change however." Tony took her words to heart, and scrubbed fiercely at his eyes, trying to scare away the first tears.

"Scawed Nat." He whimpered quietly this time. "Wike being in contwol, bu' no' in contwol when baby." He pouted in a way that told Nat he was slipping whether or not he wanted to. She found herself really sympathizing with adult Tony for the first time. 

"I get that, I do. But baby," she noticed his eyes flutter with sleep when she said the pet name, "you don't need to feel scared. You know why?" He shook his head in sleepy confusion, "You are the luckiest baby alive, because when you can't be in control, you have a wholeteam of super heroes here to be in control for you!" She smiled at him softly, suddenly realizing the real reason why Tony was so scared of being a baby. "And while we're watching you, we won't _ever_ let anyone hurt you, or take advantage of you in any way. I can promise you that Anton." 

The last thing Tony saw as he was tucked into bed was Natasha looking down at him, with an uncharacteristically sad smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe out there y'all! Sending love


	7. Rhodey's visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint have the spy version of a heart to heart, and Rhodes discovers what's happened to Tony.  
>  _________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> "Don't ever insinuate that I'm a weak child again Barton, I mean it." Okay, so she was really mad. He didn't even have to hear her to sense the venom in her words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mentions of past child abuse and the red room, but only in the beginning. Also, this chapter can be Clintasha if you want it to be, but this fics not gonna become slashy, because I'm gonna bring Clint's family into this story pretty soon!

After tucking in Tony, Natasha asked JARVIS to take her down to the gym. When she got there, Clint was on the mat stretching and waiting for her to come spar, but instead of joining him she went over to the opposite side of the gym, and slipped on a pair of boxing gloves. The gloves were worn to the point of nearly falling apart, and a little too large for her, probably because she and Steve had the same habit of boxing their demons away. She approached the nearest punching bag, and began attacking it furiously. The frustration she was feeling must have been noticeable on her face, because even though Clint made no move to approach her, he signed,

**"** **Okay Nat?"** from across the room. Or, maybe her expression hiding skills were as good as she'd initially thought, and he was concerned because she'd beaten the punching bag so brutally it was spilling sand at the seams. She shook off the oversized gloves and walked over to him, accepting the water bottle he offered her. As she drank, she noticed for the first time that she'd been abusing that poor punching bag for a solid 20 minutes, and there was a muted pain radiating from her knuckles. She learned to shrug off pain a long time ago, so she pulled her self together, walked over to the sparring mat, and waved over her partner. He wasn't wearing his aids (they could survive a lot of things normal aids couldn't, but they couldn't survive a fight the way Nat and Clint fought), so she signed her response,

**"He was scared. Children shouldn't feel scared adults will hurt them."** She shook her head, **"Ever. Children shouldn't have to worry. Adults should be safe."** her signing skills were mediocre at best, but he still got the message.

**"Tony safe Nat."** even as he comforted her he got in a fighting stance,

**"I know, but doesn't feel safe. Not fair. Not right."** She felt the frustration bubbling up inside of her. He knew from the moment she walked in that while she was upset that Tony was scared, he wasn't the only one Natasha was upset for, though she'd never admit that. He wasn't sure if what he did next was the right thing, and he knew she'd kill other men for less, but he did it anyways, 

**"You safe too."** When her eyes met his there was fury in them. He continued anyways, pointing at his ear in an obvious reference to the scars that travelled from behind the appendage down his jaw,

**"You know I know your pain, and your fear, but you're safe now Nat."** She ignored the broken smile he gave her and assumed position as well, 

**"Not a child Barton. Know I'm safe."** When they began fighting, he was expecting the painful crack of his jaw as she swung ruthlessly at him. He knew she was probably being so vicious because of what he'd said, and for a moment he actually felt scared. Did he push her too far when he brought up her past? But, he quickly reminded himself that she would never intentionally injure him, and that no matter how painful her punches were, she always avoided crucial nerves. He was safe with her, and he hoped she knew that she was safe with him too. As he dodged her leg he caught her lips moving in what looked suspiciously like the word weak, so he signed stop, and straightened himself up to meet her eyes, 

"Could you repeat that now that I can see your lips?" 

"Don't ever insinuate that I'm a weak child again Barton, I mean it." Okay, so she was really mad. He didn't even have to hear her to sense the venom in her words, 

"I never called you weak, or a child." He said patiently, once again handing her the water bottle, "I said that you're safe." He raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to contradict his words, "Children aren't the only ones who deserve to feel safe Nat. Do you feel you don't deserve to be safe." 

"I feel fine." She snapped, though most of the sharp dangerousness had drained from her facial expression. He smiled at her as though she hadn't just been threatening him a moment ago,

"I'm glad to hear it." And he was. He assumed position again, and the fighting continued, if a little less intensely.

* * *

In another part of the tower, Tony woke up alone in his playpen. He didn't sleep that long, and when he woke up he was surprised to find that he still was feeling big enough to have little to no interest in the toys scattered around what he had fondly come to call his "child cage™," so he waited patiently for someone to come and collect him. After a few moments of no one coming into the room, he started calling out the names of his teammates,

"Cwint? Bwuce? Mama?" He winced, not even realizing what he'd said until it'd slipped out of his mouth. He didn't want to start mentally dissecting why younger him seemed to be desperate for a mom, but never once had he felt the urge to call one of the men on his team dad. Still, he couldn't help himself from mulling over it, and as he travelled into the deeper regions of his brain, he decided that it might have something to do with good ol' Howard. He could feel himself slipping into a younger state of mind the more he thought about how much he wanted his Mama, and he began to whimper childishly, but he shot back up into an adult mindset when Steve entered the room. 

"Hey there Tony." Steve practically cooed, "you didn't call me, but is it okay if I pick you up? If not I could go find Bruce." the man looked sheepish, like he was expecting Tony to turn down his offer. Tony wasn't sure why, but they could talk about that later. Tony nodded, even though he was feeling very adult, and didn't exactly like the idea of being carried. Steve scooped him up, and held him delicately, shifting him in his arms every few seconds. 

"Da' ta'k abou' you wots." Steve blinked in ill-concealed surprise, obviously under the impression that Tony was still mentally young. The little boy decided to let him think what he wanted to think. Perhaps it would be easier to speak to Steve this way, because he didn't seem to have the judgement in his voice when he spoke to young Tony that he did when he spoke to old Tony. "When I was bad, he tew me my Uncah Stebe is Cap'n 'Merica, an' he wou' ha'e me." Tony looked up Steve with those big eyes, but he didn't look sad necessarily, just curious. It was almost like he was asking Steve if it was true. 

"Tony," he said, pulling the little boy in closer, "I don't hate you I promise. I love you very much." Tony nuzzled himself closer into Steve's chest, and let out a relieved breath. The adult part of him knew that Steve didn't hate him, but the child part of him still had to check. 

"Wike you too Stebe." He reached up a tiny hand to pat Steve's cheek, causing Steve to laugh despite himself. 

"Now that that's out of the way, do you want to go eat lunch with Bruce? He's in the kitchen, cooking ...well, I'm not sure what it is, but it smells good." 

"No highchaiw." Steve laughed a little more freely, 

"Hmmmm," he pretended to consider it, "I'll think about it." Tony couldn't find the energy inside himself to have a fit when Steve took him into the kitchen, and clipped him into the highchair, but he still pouted. "Don't be sad Tony," Steve cooed again, making Tony pout even more, "Bruce is making some really yummy - what is it you're making Bruce?" The scientist smiled at the pair, 

"Hi Tony. I'm making dal khichdi Steve, it's Indian." If Tony didn't know better he would have thought that Steve looked a little worried at that answer, "Don't worry, it's not spicy unless you put the Achar on it, just really buttery." It made sense that the captain didn't like spicy food, seeing as he grew up mainly on potatoes and other flavourless foods, but Tony couldn't help the giggle at how relieved Steve looked, 

"Right. I'll make sure to avoid the achar, which is the-" 

"The pickles Steve." Steve was blushing slightly at his lack of knowledge, 

"Right. The ones that are called pickles, but are actually spicy mango?" Bruce chuckled, 

"Those are the ones. Adult Tony likes them, but I'm not sure how baby Tony will feel." Tony stuck his tongue out defiantly at his friend, 

"No' baby." 

"So I've heard. Natasha and Clint told me their theory, but I don't think that being in an adult mindset is going to change your taste buds, or anything physically for that matter." Steve looked wholly confused, 

"Tony's brain is adult again?" Bruce barked a laugh,

"For now at least. Tony's just so childish all the time, it's hard to tell when he's a two year old or not." He shot a smirk at Tony, obviously not noticing the guilty expression on the child's face. Tony hadn't really done anything wrong, but he still felt a little bad that he'd used Steve thinking he was young to get answers. 

"I bet we could figure out right now if your mind set will effect your feelings about spice, if you're up to a little experiment," Bruce gave Tony his very specific _wanna' do science?_ look he had, and Steve had a feeling that this "experiment" was going to entail a little more than feeding Tony some pepper. At Tony's nod, Bruce left the room for a moment, and returned with the Hulk pacifier. Tony looked at it with disgust, despite the fact that he often used it. "Do you want this Tony?" Bruce asked amicably, ignoring the insulted look Tony gave him. 

"No. Don' wan' Bwuce." 

"Good, just making sure. It's crucial for the experiment." For the first time ever, Tony and Steve looked equally confused about something Bruce was saying. Bruce leaned in a little closer to Tony, offering him the soother, "I know you don't want to, but can you put this in your mouth for me?" The toddler grumbled for a few seconds, but accepted the pacifier in the name of science. Then, for reasons incomprehensible to Steve, Bruce began tapping the pacifier with his index finger, and suddenly Tony was sucking on the pacifier, which had previously been hanging loosely from his lips. The scientist straightened with a satisfied smile, as thought that one little motion answered anything. Bruce must've sensed Steve's confusion, because he began explaining his theory, "What Tony just demonstrated for us was the instinct all infants-" Tony made a garbled noise of indigence at Bruce's choice of words, "Sorry, that all people under two have to perform non-nutritive self-soothing when prompted by a pacifier accompanied with any motion similar to tapping. I'd even say he's a little old for that instinct," Tony huffed in protest, "but if that one's still around than the pre-pubescent instinct to dislike foods with acquired tastes is definitely still around."

Tony began whining when instead of taking away that god-awful pacifier, Bruce (whom he'd previously thought was his friend) clipped it onto his shirt, and turned to continue preparing the food. Steve looked uncomfortably at Tony, like part of him wanted to take him out of the highchair and hug him, and part of him wanted to take back what he'd said earlier since he knew that Tony was lucid enough to remember it. Tony wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself either, but thankfully after a few minutes of silently avoiding Steve's scrutinizing glances at him, Bruce brought sweet salvation in the form of a bowl of curry. At first, Steve tried to feed Tony, but the toddler was not having it. Throwing his head from side to side, he could feel himself slipping farther away from his adult mind. Finally, Steve gave up, and let Tony feed himself, trying not to smile as the little boy giggled and buried his hands in the food. 

By the time Tony had finished his lunch, he was an absolute mess. Bruce was fussing over him with a wet cloth when JARVIS made an announcement,

"Dr. Banner, Colonel Rhodes is scheduled to have lunch with the young sir today, and is currently waiting in the elevator. Should I let him in?" Bruce straightened, obviously deciding to quit trying to clean Tony. 

"He was bound to find out eventually," he looked to Steve for confirmation, "I think we should just let him in." Steve nodded, though he looked apprehensive, 

"Might as well." The elevator gave a pleasant ping, and Tony bounced excitedly, having caught on that his friend was coming. The moment Rhodes walked into the room, Tony started calling out to him, 

"Whodey, Whodey! Pwatypus!" Rhodes stopped in shock before even stepped out of the elevator,

"I swear to God, if Tony had a kid and taught him to call me platypus-" 

"That's the thing." Bruce cut him off, looking nervous, "Tony didn't have the kid... Tony is the kid." Bruce undid Tony's buckle, and placed him wriggling on the ground. He promptly ran over to the colonel and reached up his arms to be carried.

"Up." He demanded. Rhodes didn't pick him up, instead he laughed, like any sensible person would do.

"I'm not joking." Bruce said apologetically, "Tony got hit with some magic, and now he's one." 

"Awmost two!" Tony contradicted as he tugged on his friend's pant leg. Rhodes finally picked up the eager child, and held him out to get a good look at him,

"How long has he been like this?" Bruce sighed tiredly, 

"Three days, but it's gonna last at least a month."

"Whodey!" Tony declared proudly as he tugged on the man's ear. Rhodey swatted his hand away, not unkindly, and bounced Tony a little,

"What did you get yourself into this time Tones? You look almost as little as you did when I met you at MIT."

"No' wittah Whodey!" Tony giggled, "Big!" The man laughed, "Sure you are Tones." Rhodey walked over to the nearby couch, and greeted Steve for the first time on his way, 

"Good to see you Steve."

"Colonel Rhodes," Steve slipped into his Captain America voice, as he often did while talking to military personal, "long time no see." 

"Yeah," Rhodes paused for a moment to give Tony attention, since the little boy was tugging on his shirt, "I was out of the country on a mission, just flew back in last night."

"Whodey!" 

"What is it bud?" It seemed the colonel was still Tony's exasperated older brother, regardless of the latter's age. 

"Wanna' show you toys, an' Cap'n 'Merica pwate." Rhodes chuckled at the way Tony had whispered like his belongings were a very important secret.

"Oh, I'm gonna' have so much blackmail material when he's back to normal!"

"Don't worry," Bruce smiled mischievously, "he'll be back in a few minutes, then you can tease him all you want." 

"Now I'm confused, I thought you said he's like this for a month?" 

"He is, but he's been shifting between an adult and toddler frame of mind every few minutes." As if on cue, Tony squirmed out of Rhodey's hold, tumbling to the ground in an attempt to get over to his toy bin, and the shock of the fall seemed to be enough to send him back into a much more (if not all the way) adult state of mind. He pushed himself up from where he'd face planted on the ground. His bottom lip wobbled at first, but he cheered up exponentially when he saw his friend, as though he hadn't noticed him before. "You back Tones?" Bruce asked calmly as though his colleagues shifted from baby to adult all the time. Tony huffed when Rhodey picked him up and bounced him in his arms, looking more embarrassed about his situation than he had since the first day.

"Fine." He muttered dejectedly, "No' hur'" Rhodey laughed at him, and ruffled his hair, 

"Look at you diaper butt. I like you more like this actually, you're cute." Tony looked shocked and offended,

"Speaking of diapers," Bruce collected Tony from a cackling Rhodes, "I've gotta go deal with this." 

"Bwuce!" Tony squirmed indignantly in his hold. He'd gotten pretty used to being changed, but this was utterly humiliating. He was just grateful that Bruce took him out of the room to change him.

* * *

"Relax Tony." Bruce instructed sternly as Tony struggled against getting changed. Halfway through changing Bruce popped the pacifier clipped onto Tony's shirt back into his mouth. and used the tapping trick he had earlier in the kitchen. Tony growled at the other man, Bruce rarely forced Tony to take a pacifier when he knew he was adult. "You have two options Tony; you can calm down and spend time with your friend, or you can go in your playpen for the rest of Rhodey's visit. Tony whined from behind his pacifier, but calmed down almost instantly, aside from the occasional nasty glare at the scientist. Bruce smiled at him gratefully, praising him about how good he was being, and kissing his tummy before closing the onesie again.

After Bruce helped him up off the changing mat, Tony shot off like an arrow into the living room, where he threw himself into the tired-looking colonels arms. Rhodes spent the rest of the afternoon trying to slip in quick conversations with the rest of the avengers as they trickled into the room, but mostly failing because Tony was dragging him around the floor showing him every single item he'd acquired since he'd changed. Thankfully, it only took an hour or so for Tony to collapse in his friend's arms, dead asleep. Which admittedly, worried Bruce a little. 

"Clint, did you say that Tony slept at the park earlier?" the question was conversational enough, but he could see traces of concern in Clint's eyes too. 

"Yeah, on the way home, and again when we got home." Bruce worried his bottom lip as he looked at the sleeping child. 

"Maybe I should give him another checkup." Rhodey stood up and handed the sleeping child to Bruce,

"I gotta go anyways." He said his farewells to all the Avengers (minus Thor), who were chatting in the communal lounge by that point, and made his way over to the elevators. "Keep him safe Bruce, and keep me in the loop, k?" He tangled his fingers in Tony's hair, "Christ, he's so little!" He gave one last wave to the Avengers, wished them good luck with Tony (he knew they were gonna need it), and left. Tony woke up a few seconds after Rhodey left, and looked around confusedly. Bruce noticed that his eyes were glazed over, and he was shivering a little in his arms. 

"Hey babe," Tony had no reaction, which was another bad sign, "you feeling okay?" Tony scrunched up his nose like he wasn't sure then shook his head with a whimper,

"Don' feew good Bwuce!" He whined pathetically, then began to wail at the top of his lungs. Bruce groaned, knowing right then and there, it was gonna be a long afternoon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, this fics about to get real whumpy real quick!!!


	8. Sick Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby Tony has a sick day, and the rest of the team takes care of him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally moving onto day four of this fic. Day three was a whopper!

Tony had gotten unfortunately accustomed to the cold itchy feeling of waking up in a used diaper. But this time, Tony was more cold than usual, to the point where he could feel his whole body shivering in protest. He pried his eyes open, and despite the fact that his vision was blurry from tears and a pounding headache, he was able to perceive that he was in the medibay with Bruce. He whimpered as Bruce pressed a stethoscope against his chest, bringing him further into consciousness. The longer the scientist held the metal instrument against his chest, the colder he felt, and after a few seconds he couldn't help the fat tears that began rolling down his cheeks. 

"Cold Bwuce!" Bruce lifted the stethoscope away and cooed sympathetically, 

"I know Tones, sorry. I was just giving you a checkup, and I think you're a little bit sick. Does your tummy hurt?" Tony thought for a moment, and he hadn't noticed it before, but now that Bruce had mentioned it, his stomach hurt like crazy. 

"Mhm," he whimpered pitifully, "cold!" Bruce propped him up a little,

"Just a moment, and we'll get you dressed and wrapped up in a warm nice blanket okay?" Tony started feeling very frustrated. Was Bruce really gonna' make him say it out loud?

"No Bwuce! Cold! We'!" Bruce's face clicked in understanding. He propped Tony up entirely, and much to his humiliation, pulled on the back of Tony's diaper and peeked in,

"Sorry babe. Guess it's time for a change, but all your supplies are up on the communal floor." Bruce pulled the onesie over Tony's head, not bothering to button it up, and carried him over to the elevator. "I asked Jarvis to scan you," Bruce wasn't sure if Tony was mentally old enough to understand, but figured if he was, he'd want to know, "nothing's wrong with the arc reactor. My best guess is that it's just a little bug. Your fever's a 36 though, so I'm surprised you're feeling cold. I'm assuming that will fluctuate." The more Tony thought about it, the less cold he felt. He had nausea so strong it was making him numb and shivery, but otherwise he was very hot. The feeling brought him a very specific memory of being young, and sticking his hands in hot water after playing in the snow. The heat of the water was so stunning to the body that it felt frigid. 

"Ho'" He whined as Bruce caught a tear on that was crawling down his cheek, and let out a good natured chuckle, 

"I know baby. Let's get you changed okay?" On the communal floor, Bruce carried him right past the other Avengers in the living room, and into a bathroom. He leaned forward to place Tony onto the mat, and carefully pried Tony's fingers off of where they were desperately clinging to his shirt. Bruce hummed as he stripped the toddler, and Tony expected him to put him in a fresh diaper immediately, but instead Bruce stood and began wetting a cloth at the sink. After a few moments of Tony quietly sobbing from his place on the ground, Bruce knelt down beside him again, and began wiping off his face with the lukewarm cloth. Tony's tears slowed down, and pretty soon he stopped, with an appreciative sigh. Once the toddler had been completely wiped down with the cloth, Bruce fastened a diaper around his hips, and enveloped him in a towel before carrying him out of the room, and over to Clint. Despite his poor mood, Tony looked happy enough to see the archer, and began reaching out for him,

"Wan' Cwin' pwease." Bruce handed over the child, not looking offended in the least that he'd been dumped by the toddler he'd just been taking very good care of, 

"Oh I see how it is." He chuckled as he watched Tony cling to the other man, "Playing favourites because he took you to the park." The toddler just blinked sleepily and began sucking his thumb, only to be stopped by Clint, who slipped a pacifier in its place. 

"Cwin', head hur's weal bad." He muttered around the pacifier. Clint pressed a kiss onto Tony's forehead. _L_ _ike that will help at all,_ Tony thought. 

"I know baby. Let's get you down to my room so you can get changed into something nice and comfy, and maybe go to sleep." Tony shook his head, but stopped when it made him even more nauseous. With a final ruffle on the head from Bruce, and a gentle kiss on his tummy from Natasha (who'd recently learned Tony was a sucker for tummy kisses), Tony went up to Clint's floor, slowly falling asleep in the man's arms on the way.

* * *

Clint wasn't sure if Tony was going to like the outfit he'd chosen for him, but he figured that he wouldn't complain once he'd gotten it on him since it was definitely the comfiest outfit he had. It was a baby blue, cotton footie jumpsuit. The only problem with it was that it was designed for someone a little younger than Tony, with built on mittens and snaps around the crotch (they hadn't been sure of his exact age at first, so hey'd had JARVIS order him a variety of clothes), though Clint thought it would fit just fine, because Tony was a little small for his age anyways. Still, Clint expected Tony to cry, or make some type of fuss. What he didn't expect was for Tony to have no reaction at all, but simply lie there with his eyes glossed over, and moan every once in a while as he was changed. Needless to say, the archer took it as a bad sign. In fact, Tony didn't even seem to notice till a few moments later when he started getting fussy in Clint's arms, and tried to pull out his pacifier, only to find that his hands were wrapped in fabric. It was a good thing that Clint had lots of experience with fussy babies, cause naturally, this realization only made Tony more upset. 

"Shh shh. Okay baby, it's okay." He sat down on the bed, and pulled out Tony's pacifier, "I'm sorry about the sleeves. I didn't think they'd bother you because you're going to sleep anyways." 

"Nuhuh." Tony was whimpered, and squirmed a little, like he couldn't get comfortable, "No' gon' sweep. Don' feew goo'!" Tony wasn't lying. The whole world was swirling around him in a feverish frenzy that made him think he probably wouldn't be able to recall the evening later on, and he could feel his skull vibrating from the pounding of his headache. Clint had another idea that he was sure Tony wasn't going to like, but he was also sure would help soothe the headache at least a little. Tony watched from where he was lying on the bed as the man left the bedroom. He could hear him humming and opening what sounded like packaging in the other room. He remembered at some point hearing that Clint had brought some of the baby supplies they'd bought down to his floor, but he was much too dizzy to really be concerned about what Clint was unpackaging in the other room. Tony heard Clint returning before he saw him. He was singing softly as he came into the room, 

_"A beautiful day for a neighbour. Could you be mine? Would you be mine?"_ Tony rolled onto his side to see what the archer was carrying, and he wasn't happy. In one hand he was carrying baby Advil, and in the other a bottle. Neither were things Tony wanted to drink, but Clint just smiled at him, and continued to sing softly as he dipped a syringe into the Advil and scooped up Tony onto his lap. Tony tried to escape, but Clint's hold was limiting his movement, and his mitted hands were of no use to him when he tried to snatch away the syringe of medicine. The archer tried to coax the syringe into Tony's mouth, causing the baby to break out into wails of misery.

"No no no Cwint!" 

Tony wasn't sure where Clint got the wet cloth (he'd been so focused on the other things he'd been carrying, he didn't notice it), but he wasn't complaining about the cool stroking of he fabric over his face, wiping his tears away and pressing against his forehead in a way that instantly reduced the headache. As the pain subsided a little, Tony could feel himself giving into the feeling of exhaustion more and more, and Clint obviously decided to take advantage of Tony's bout of fatigue, because the sneaky bastard slipped the syringe into Tony's mouth and pressed down before he could even notice, leaving Tony with no choice but to swallow the nasty tasting stuff. He began to whimper again as Clint put the bottle towards his face, but the man hummed, and rocked him gently as he slipped the bottle into his mouth,

"It's just water Tony. Your sippy cup is downstairs." The toddler figured that as long as it wasn't formula, there wasn't really any harm in drinking from a bottle, though he still grumbled a little around the nipple of the bottle before he began to drink. The cold refreshing relief of the water hit Tony in a wave, and he instantly went lax Clint's arms, causing the man to chuckle quietly to himself. Around halfway through the bottle though, Tony began whimpering again, and pressing his hands against his tummy. Unsure what else he could do, Clint began singing again, _"L_ _et's make the most of this beautiful day._ _Since we're together, might as well say."_ He was worried at first that Tony would protest to being sung a song from a kid's show, but he really knew very few songs like it with the same power to make his children happy, so he stuck to what he knew to work, and thankfully, Tony was out like a light before he could even finish the line. " _Would you be my, could you be my?_ _Won't you be my neighbour?"_

* * *

Tony woke up a total of six times in the night, and each time Clint comforted him, and wiped of his face with a cool cloth, his fever had crept slightly higher. The seventh time Tony woke, the sun was shining outside the floor to ceiling windows he'd put in Clint's room (One of the few facts Tony knew about the archer was that he liked looking down on things, so he'd made sure to pull all the stops and give Clint the best views), and he felt like he couldn't fall asleep again, so instead he pulled himself up onto his knees, but began whimpering when the nausea kicked in again. Unlike yesterday, he noticed the monitor on Clint's wrist vibrating, waking up Clint. The spy didn't look tired at all, despite the fact that Tony had kept him up all night, but he supposed Clint probably got very little sleep anyways in his line of work. The man left the room wordlessly, and returned a few seconds later with a fresh bottle of water for the toddler. Tony, for his part, ignored the urge to squirm in Clint's arms as he gave Tony the bottle, and afterwards settled Tony on his hip to take him up to the communal floor.

"Feel any better baby? Your fever's still pretty high." Tony didn't feel better, and he was sure Clint already knew that, but he was feeling irritated and he didn't like the way he was being babied because he was sick, so he lied,

"Bettah Cwin'. Fevah gone." He perked up a little in Clint's arms for added affect, before slumping down again when Clint just laughed. He should have known lying to a trained spy wouldn't work. One good thing was that Tony was feeling, if anything, slightly more adult than the toddlerish mindset he'd been stuck in for most of the previous evening. Upon reflection, it had to be the most purely young he'd felt since he'd switched. Almost like he was _actually_ a baby.

"You're cute kid, but you're not gonna be a SHIELD agent when you grow up if you're that bad at lying." Tony huffed, _when he grew up?_ had everyone forgotten that he was an adult. 

"Am gwon up!" There was no need for an argument, Clint knew that he was a grown up, but the constant pain in his head was making him fussy, and he wanted to start an argument. 

"Sorry Tones, I didn't realize that grown up Tony was with us." He cooed at Tony's pouty face before squeezing the back of his diaper, "Does 'grown up' Tony need a diaper change?" He laughed even more at the insulted look Tony gave him. First Bruce, and now Clint? Why couldn't they just trust him to tell them when he needed a change? Tony huffed, but still leaned against Clint's side, as the nausea hit him once again. 

"No. Gon' go sweep now." He curled himself closer against Clint's body, and winced when he heard the archer laugh again. Normally he wouldn't've allowed himself to be so childishly clingy while in his adult mindset, but at least he could blame it on the damn fever if someone commented later.

When the elevator doors opened, Clint shifted him, so that he was cradled against his chest, and carried him into the kitchen, where the other Avengers were preparing their respective plates of breakfast. Bruce practically snatched the child away from Clint, pressing his hand into Tony's forehead, and muttering something about his temperature. 

"What was his fever last time you checked Barton?" Bruce looked more worried than Tony would've liked,

"37.5, why?" Natasha reached over from where she was sitting next to Bruce, and pressed her hand against his forehead as well, 

"Doesn't seem good doc."

"Well, I'm not a medical doctor," he tiredly reminded his teammate, "but you're right. This doesn't seem good. Has he had any fluids this morning?"

"Wots." Tony grumbled from his place in Bruce's arms, grimacing at the idea of drinking anything more. The contents of the bottle he'd drank earlier were already sloshing around in his stomach, in a way that felt like they were threatening to come back up. "Don' wan' drink anymowe. Wan' sweep." Bruce hummed sympathetically, readjusting Tony so that he was lying in his lap. 

"You're going to overheat in that outfit Tony." Bruce's scolding was not so much pointed at the toddler as it was at the archer, who just shrugged,

"Most of his pyjamas are thick fleecy fabric. It was the lightest fabric I could find." Bruce huffed at that, and much to Tony's frustration, began unbuttoning the jumpsuit and tugging it off of Tony's squirming body. Bruce looked unbothered at the fact that he was stripping Tony, an adult man, at a table in front of all his colleagues.

"No Bwuce!" The scientist wasn't ignorant to Tony's embarrassment, in-fact it was practically tangible. But, he knew that he couldn't just let his friend sit there and have a heat stroke from those clothes, and he told him so.

"Your choice Tony; the jumpsuit comes off, or you overheat and the fever gets worse." He decided not to sugar coat it, as it was obvious from Tony's humiliation that he was adult at the moment, but he regretted his harshness almost instantly when Tony began to whimper and fat tears started pouring down his cheeks. 

"Nice one идиот." Natasha tsked, and took the crying, half-dressed toddler from Bruce. "It's okay Anton. I've got you." She stood from the table, not quite sure yet where she was going.

"Mama!" Tony wailed, causing Steve to choke on his food, and Bruce's eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline.

"Yeah, that's not new." Clint pitched helpfully from where he was standing at the counter with a big stupid smirk on his face, "Baby Tony seems to think that Natasha is his mom." The comment made Tony wail even more (he obviously hadn't noticed what he'd said previous to it), and it earned Clint a painful kick to the shin from his partner as she left the room with Tony. 

"Ignore Clint, he's stupid." Natasha cooed at the sobbing toddler, hoping to calm him down, if not make him smile. 

"S'upid!" Tony agreed, hiccuping a little. Tony had one hand clinging to the neck of Natasha's shirt, and the other pressed against his temple. "Ho' mama," He whimpered, "too ho'." 

"I know, малыш." She and Tony boarded elevator, which carried them up to Clint's floor before she could even make a request.

"If I might, madame," JARVIS's voice was softer than usual, which was something of a testament to how good he was at caring for Tony, "there is a bottle of baby Advil on master Barton's bedside table that might do young sir some good." Natasha smiled gratefully at the ceiling, thanking the ai as she disembarked the elevator.

"You still adult, Tony?" Tony flushed, detaching himself from the spy's shirt in an effort to seem more mature. 

"Yeah, sowwy." She clucked, 

"No need to be sorry babe. I was just curious. Can you drink this medicine for me like a big boy?" Her words were patronizing, but there was something about her tone that was more genuine than teasing, like she'd tried to land a joke, but felt sincere in her words. He simply nodded, accepting the syringe of medicine, and wrinkling his nose at the taste. He was settled on Clint's bed now, looking up at Natasha from where she'd laid him on his back. 

"Wha's wrong Na'?" She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering how it was possible that toddler Tony seemed so much more perceptive of others than adult Tony. Perhaps they were equally perceptive, and toddler Tony was just more vocal with his observations. 

"Nothing baby. You're just..." She paused, "I don't think this is a discussion to have with a toddler." She'd already pulled off his pyjamas, and was now working on the tabs of his diaper. He stared at her with those big eyes, and repeated the question with more patience than she'd ever heard in his tone when he was an adult,

"Na', wha's wrong?" To avoid eye contact, Natasha focused on the new diaper she was wrapping around Tony as she spoke,

"You were so emotionally constipated when you were an adult, you know that?" The statement elicited a grumble from the toddler. Was she really taking shots at him while he was sick, and also a two-year-old? "But, now that you're a toddler and all, I can see your emotions clear as day, and it just hurts me to see how much pain you're in. I wish I could do more, cause little kids shouldn't have to feel that much pain." Tony had a feeling that she wasn't just talking about the fever.

"No' you' faul'," He says, with way too much logic in his voice for a toddler. "Sometime I hur', bu' you cawe, an' you twy, an' tha's mo' then I ha' in las' childhood." He sticks one of his fists in his mouth, and continues to speak around it, "You weally goo' mama." Natasha suppresses a smile as she collects Tony from off of the bed, wearing only his diaper. 

"Thanks Tones, you're pretty great too." She kisses him on the forehead, running a hand through his hair as he gets more comfortable pressed against her chest. The spy had to assume that he was slipping into his younger state of mind, because he was babbling to himself, not to mention the fact that he'd just called her 'mama' again, and wasn't making any protests about being practically naked. She made a mental note to tell the others that it wasn't just emotions that made him switch, but also how much energy he had.

She carried the toddler into the washroom, and wiped him down with a wet wash cloth, which was an action he'd begun to recognize, and quite enjoy, and afterwards settled on the bed, with Tony in her arms.

Everything was a little bit blurry, and Tony had to assume it was from all the crying, but his eyelids were also beginning to droop so heavily he could barely even see. After a few minutes of squinting up at what he was almost ninety percent sure was Natasha's face, he gave into the darkness edging into the corners of his vision, and dropped into tumultuous sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than usual, I was looking through this chapter afterwards, and had to change some parts because I realized they weren't English.


	9. Toddlers Can't Work in Labs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for very mild mention of past abuse. If you don't want to read it though, skip the segment of the writing with ***asterisks*** at the beginning. You should be able to skip this part without missing anything substantial aside from the fact that Tony gets a new plushie toy, and Clint doesn't like changing fussy toddler's diapers.  
> ____________________________
> 
> Apologizing once more that I'm using SEE grammar instead of ASL, it's just what I'm used to. Reminder that anything in bold is signed. That's pretty much my rule of thumb.

Tony's evening went about as well as his morning. For quite a few hours he refused to eat, and when Bruce finally forced him to eat something light, it gave him diarrhea almost instantly. He spent the remainder of the evening sobbing pitifully each time one of his teammates repeated the process of comforting him as his stomach cramped up, and changing him out of a soiled diaper. 

By the time it was decided he should go to bed, it was far past his bedtime, and he'd not eaten dinner and barely had a thing to drink. He dozed off on the couch with Natasha keeping watch over him to make sure he didn't fall, as he absolutely refused to be left alone in his crib.

Tony woke up the next morning in Natasha's arms (it seemed she'd never left the couch), feeling ten times better than he had the day before. He also felt much more adult than he had when he went to sleep. He was beginning to think that his mind set quite possibly was not only related to his emotions, but how much sleep he'd had, seeing as his toddler brain seemed to tie emotions in pretty closely with how long it'd been since his last nap. When the spy saw that he was awake, she cooed, and ran her hand through his hair in a way that was both comforting, and extremely annoying now that he was thinking clearly. He pushed his tiny hands against her till she sat him on the couch. 

"Head doesn' hur' anymow." he declared happily, as he came to the realization that the pounding headache he'd been sure would never go away had reduced itself to a mild, dull throb in the back of his head. 

"I'm glad to hear," she smiled at him, "sometimes you just have to get the bug out of your system to start feeling better." Her words were blunt, and Tony failed to hold back a blush at what she was insinuating. 

"Feew gwon up," He desperately scrambled for a change in topic, "can I go down to wab with Bwuce?" Apparently Natasha was immune to puppy dog eyes, because she firmly shook her head,

"No way. There are too many things in those labs that a curious baby could swallow." she booped his nose, hoping maybe he'd forget about the labs, but he clearly wasn't having any of it.

"No' cuwious! No' baby!" Tony was starting to get frustrated, Natasha was barely even listening to him! Instead, she was busying herself screwing the lid onto a sippy cup that Steve had offered her. When had Steve entered the room? 

"I know Tones, but your gonna' change head spaces eventually, and it can't happen in the lab." He stuck his bottom lip out, making a last effort at convincing her to let him go, but she wasn't changing her mind no matter how cute he looked.

After a few minutes of Tony pouting while a kid's show played on the tv, Bruce emerged from the elevator, and sat down next to Tony. 

"Hey babe, feeling any better? That sippy cup's not just for show, ya know?" The physicist leaned over and planted a kiss on his huffing lab partners head. 

"No' babe." Tony shoved the untouched cup off the couch, in a motion even he could admit was immature. "You wook tiwed" He muttered as Bruce knelt in front of him to grab the cup. He reached out, and splayed his fingers across the tired man's cheeks, pointers pulling on the large bags under his eyes. Bruce hummed, and climbed back onto the couch, handing Tony the cup, and giving him a look that clearly said he expected him to drink it. Tony decided to humour Bruce, and took a few gulps of the water before continuing to speak. "You take nap now, an' I go wo'k in wab, okay?" he declared in an important tone that eerily reminded Bruce of the times he'd seen the toddler's adult counterpart make public announcements. Despite his exhaustion, the scientist barked a laugh, and collected Tony up onto his lap. 

"A lab is not a safe place for a toddler, Tony. Especially an unattended toddler." Tony let out a long-suffering groan, and leaned back against Bruce in dismay. "But," He perked up a little bit, "if you're feeling up to it, I can go grab my Starkpad from the lab, and you can help me with some equations." Bruce tried not to coo at the toddler bouncing happily in his lap, knowing how much it would bother him. _Adorable_ he thought, handing the child over to Natasha. "I'll be right back." Tony waved at him, eyes following him as he left full of desperation to accompany him down to the lab.

Bruce could tell that Tony was getting restless, and also that he was getting over his bug. It was good that Tony was feeling better, of course it was. _But,_ it also meant they were about to have a very restless, energetic toddler on their hands once more, who'd just spent the last few days cooped up in a room. He was going to want non-stop entertainment, whether that meant playing outside, or solving complex math equations, and with all the time he'd spent working recently, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to handle the little bundle of energy. He'd have to coerce Clint into being the kid's main supervisor, that was for sure. But, for now he was happy to sit and do some science with his partner again.

* * *

When Bruce returned to the communal floor, tablet in hand, Tony was sitting on Clint's lap eating breakfast. 

"Little punk refused to sit in his highchair." the archer grumbled when Bruce entered the kitchen. Natasha snorted from where she was perched on the counter, 

"Yeah, and you're a pushover when it comes to the kid. Anton has you in the palm of his hand." She smirked, but their was a loving touch in her voice when she looked at the little boy. Clearly, Clint wasn't the only Avenger who was enamoured with their miniaturized friend.

"No mow food." Tony shook his head as Clint tried to give him another spoonful of cereal, "no' hungwy. Wan' go do science!" He made to leap off of the archer's lap, but Clint reached out and looped an arm around his torso. 

"Woah, not so fast short stack!" He pulled the grumbling toddler back up from where he was suspended half-way to the ground, not releasing his hold on him once he was secure in his lap. "First of all, you know not to jump from high places,"

"Says you bi'd-bwain." grumbled Tony.

"Second of all," Clint pressed on, ignoring Natasha's snickering, "you don't get to go do science until you've eaten at least half your bowl of breakfast. Those are the rules."

"Since when?" Tony challenged.

"Since now. I'm the adult, so I get to make new rules whenever I want." He offered Tony another spoon loaded with cereal, but Tony just gave the food a nasty look, as though it'd personally offended him. It was obvious that Tony wasn't going to give in any time soon, but Bruce had an idea. 

"Hey Tones, I have all your projects loaded onto this tablet, so which one do you want to work on first?" The toddler began responding eagerly, describing one of his favourite projects, and let out a garbled squawk when the spoon was shoved into his mouth. 

"Mean!" He hissed after he'd chewed and swallowed. 

"I know, we're sooo mean," Clint chuckled, "but it wasn't that bad was it? Come on Tony, I know this is your favourite cereal, just eat some more. It's really yummy and you know it." Tony glared at Clint's childish choice of words, and kept his lips glued, not eager to repeat the experience of being force fed while speaking. "Just two more bites." The archer was trying desperately to make Tony see reason, "Two more bites, and I won't make you eat again till lunch." Tony squirmed furiously, throwing his head from side to side when Clint scooped up some more of the now mushy cereal. 

"The quicker you eat it, the quicker you can come with me." Bruce turned on the starkpad, opening the file of the project he knew Tony wanted to work on, "I'm getting tired of waiting Tony," he stated dramatically, "and I'd hate to have to finish designing Veronica without you." Tony stilled in Clint's lap, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline, 

"You wouldn'! Vewonica is my baby!" 

"Oh, I just might, if you don't hurry up and eat your breakfast." Tony begrudgingly opened his mouth, shooting Bruce an offended look at the same time that Clint gave him an extremely grateful one. It ended up taking only a few more minutes for Tony to finish the whole bowl of food, once he stopped grumbling about it, and he bounced eagerly as the scientist wiped his face off with a cloth, and carried him back into the living room. On the couch, Tony shifted so he was on his knees, and reached his hands up in excitement as Bruce swiped the screen of the tablet, and the schematics and diagrams on it were replicated in holograms that hovered in the air, encircling the toddler. 

"Wigh' big gween," Tony reached out, and drew one of the diagrams closer to him, "we's ge' to wo'k!" Bruce would've had a hard time understanding his partner, if it wasn't the same phrase that he said every time they worked together. 

"Let's get to it, bud." Bruce responded, trying to hide how truly happy he was to not be working alone in his lab again. He'd have to take advantage of this time, because he knew it was inevitable that adult Tony would be leaving him again soon. He hated to admit that the thought made him more than a little bit sad.

* * *

The pair fell into their rhythm pretty quickly, Bruce researching different materials for the containment system, while Tony edited his designs for Veronica's deploitation system. At times it was a little bit difficult, Tony's unsteady toddler hands making it hard for him to jot down equations, or draw designs, but Bruce was happy to lend a helping hand. However, after an hour or so, Bruce knew that playtime was coming to an end when he saw Tony's face screwing up in frustration. 

"What's wrong Tony?" The toddler just shook his head, 

"No." He pressed his fists against his eyes like he was trying to force away tears. 

"No?" Bruce wanted to help, the kid was obviously upset about something, but he was gonna need more details than that.

"No! Can' do i'!" Tony was fully and truly crying now, "Don' know how!" Tony jabbed a tiny finger at an equation hovering in front of him. Bruce hummed sympathetically, he could see at a glance where Tony had put a decimal point in the wrong place, throwing his answer straight outta whack. He was planning on pointing this out, but then he thought that maybe if Tony was crying about an equation, he was slipping into a headspace a little bit too young to do any more work. He felt a sudden pang of longing for adult Tony, who could work on a single equation for hours on end without getting frustrated, but swallowed it down. 

"That's alright Tony. You did a lot of really good work today, but I think it's time for a nap now." He scooped the toddler up into his arms, getting rid of the holograms with a quick wave. Tony sobbed angrily into the man's shirt, pounding his little fists against his chest. It didn't hurt or anything, so Bruce didn't complain, allowing the toddler to cry himself into exhaustion in his arms. 

"Nooooo!" he wailed pitifully, "don' wanna nap! No' done ye'!" 

"Mhm," Bruce responded calmly, "all done. All done with work for today." He bounced Tony a little, "I won't work on Veronica without you Tony, she's your project." That seemed to somewhat pacify the toddler. The main reason he hated naps was because he was afraid of missing out on anything while he was asleep. "But, you need to have a nap. You made that big brain of yours tired!" He planted a kiss on Tony's forehead, hiding a smile when the child reached one hand up and rubbed his head, as though considering the statement.

"Bwain tiwed?" He couldn't help but chuckle at that, 

"Yup, your poor brain is sleepy, and if you want it to work better so you can do math again, you have to have a nap." Tony's sobs slowed until they were just sniffles, 

"Nap make me do good math?" 

"Yes, I promise." Bruce had learned pretty quickly that toddler Tony loved promises, especially pinky promises. He wasn't quite sure why. Was it a fixation all children had, or was it unique to Tony? He didn't care, because he was too busy focusing on the way Tony was giggling through his tears as he wrapped his tiny pinky around Bruce's. 

"I can take him down to my floor, doc." Bruce hadn't even noticed Clint enter the room at the sound of Tony's fit. 

"Thanks." He handed off the sleepy toddler, who didn't complain, but just curled up in the archer's arms. 

"What's wrong bubby?" Clint began rocking the toddler, 

"Can' do math." he whimpered sadly, "Head all fuzzy, bu' Bwuce said ge' be'er if I sweep." Clint hummed, and pretended to understand Tony's laments. 

"I told him if he has a nap, he'll be able to do math better." Bruce translated helpfully, not that it was necessary, because the toddler was out like a light. Clint smiled fondly, planting a kiss on Tony's cheek before he spoke to Bruce, 

"You're good with him. Nat told me he asked for you first thing this morning." Bruce tried to ignore the swell of pride in his chest. 

"That jealousy I hear in your voice?" Clint scoffed indignantly, 

"Me? Jealous?" His face softened into something more sincere, "I was gonna' if you're good to take responsibility for him for the next few days, seeing as you're his favourite. But, judging by the fact you're about to fall asleep on your feet after one hour with him, I'm not sure if it'd be the best idea." Bruce tried to deny his obvious exhaustion, but the archer continued to speak, "Oh well, I guess I'll just have to take the little guy with me." He didn't look all that upset.

"Wait, where are you going?" Clint's face brightened, 

"Nat and I are going to visit my family for the weekend. I wanted to bring Tony, but Natasha said it isn't fair to spring another kid on Laura." Clint wrinkled his nose in a way that told Bruce he and Nat had argued about this topic, "But," his eyes lit up mischievously, "If I tell Nat that the poor little guy has no where else to go-"

"That's not true though. I really don't mind taking care-" 

"Come on, Bruce! I think that Lila will really like him, even if she's a little bit older. Do me a solid, man! All you have to do is tell Natasha that you don't want to be responsible for the kid." Truthfully, Bruce wasn't interested in being responsible for the kid. Of course he'd have Steve in the tower with him, but still, if Tony was always around him, it increased the chances of him injuring him in a hulk out. There were few things these days that managed to draw the hulk out these days, but he still had his reservations about being alone for too long with Tony.

"Fine, but telling Nat you have to take Tony because I don't want him is completely unbelievable. Tell her I'm scared of a hulk out." Clint looked sceptical, 

"How is that more believable? You've never hulked out at the tower." 

"Yes, but I'm also kind of known for over analyzing, and worrying about other people's safety around the hulk."

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence before Clint spoke up again,

"Fair point. Imma' take the brat to my floor."

"Or," Bruce hesitated, looking sheepish, "I could just hold him here. I know we're trying to get him used to the crib, but-"

"It's fine, Doc." The archer handed over the child with a smile, "knock yourself out. I should probably go pack some clothes anyways." Tony made a funny little snuffling noise, but didn't wake up as he was transferred into Bruce's arms. He settled on the couch, trying to be as still and quiet as possible, for fear of waking the sleeping child, but he couldn't help a laugh when he heard Natasha's voice from the kitchen,

"Who do you think I am? Of course I heard you scheming against me in the next room over Clint, there's no door between the two rooms." and a moment later, "Fine, we can take Anton with us, but you get to explain to Laura when we show up with a child. Good luck." She stormed out of the kitchen, pausing for a moment to shoot Bruce a hieroglyphic look,

"When are you going to learn to trust yourself?" She scolded. What was that even in reference to? Taking care of a child? The hulk? Damn spies and all their cryptic messages! 

* * *

Tony was woken by the sound of voices floating around him.

"JARVIS, take a photo of this please?"

"Certainly, sir."

"Bruce won't be happy if you take a photo of him."

"Oh, please. What's he gonna do, hul-"

"Guys, inside voices! You woke up Tony!" 

Tony sat up, and blinked, eyes adjusting to the light. After a few seconds, the blurry figures surrounding him turned into his teammates, aside from Bruce, who was currently asleep underneath him.

"Cap, did you jus' say _inside voices_?" Steve scoffed at Tony, who was snickering from his place snug in Bruce's arms. 

"Well, I'm sorry for trying to help you. Next time you're sleeping I'll just let them shout and wake you up." He freed Tony from the scientists hold, setting him on the ground when he squirmed in his arms. The toddler instantly booked it towards the elevator, shouting as he went, 

"JAWVIS! Take me to the wab pwease!" To be fair, Steve probably should've excepted Tony to want to go to the lab the moment he was feeling adult again. Natasha was the first person to jump into action, snatching up the toddler as he waddle-ran past. 

"Where do you think you're going mister?" Tony huffed, and looked at her like she was the dumbest person to exist,

"The wab! I'm gwon up Na'! An' I wanna go!" He had a pout on his face that was probably meant to be intimidating, but was just plain cute. 

"No," Clint took the toddler from Natasha, "you're gonna come up to my floor and get out of those pyjamas, and then we're going on the jet." Tony furrowed his brows, 

"The je'? Why? I can' exac'wy join a figh' wike this." Clint chuckled, and bounced the toddler a little, resulting in him receiving a tiny foot to the chest. 

" _Oof!_ We don't kick Tony!" He scolded, holding the child out at arms length, "You little brat." He didn't really sound to angry, after the incident last time Clint had gotten mad at Tony, his scoldings had become very light and lenient. He sincerely didn't ever want to see a kid look that scared, ever again. "There aren't any battles. Nat and I are going to visit my family, and Bruce is really busy right now with all his work, so you're going to come with us." He waited for a moment, gauging Tony's response, and he was surprised (but relieved) to see his face light up with childish glee at the prospect of leaving the tower. He smiled back at the grinning kid, "You excited?" 

"Mhm, wanna go on pwane!" Clint chuckled a little more, and gave his other teammates a wave as he began making his way up to his floor, Tony in his arms.

* * *

******* Tony was having a hard time pinpointing his exact mental age range, and it was getting on his nerves. He was sitting on Clint's bed, fighting the urge to bounce up and down on the mattress as he watched Clint pack. Part of him wanted to run around from all the excitement he was feeling, and the other part of him wanted sit calmly on the bed and prove to Clint that he could be adult for more than five _freaking_ minutes at a time. The two contrasting instincts were battling inside his head, and honestly, it was making everything happening outside his mind kind of hazy. After a few minutes, Clint approached the bed with changing supplies in hand, and in a split second, Tony felt his younger side win over. 

"NO!" He screeched, "No mow diapews! No mow baby!" Clint sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. If he'd had this conversation once with Tony in in the past four days, he'd had it a hundred times. 

"Sweet boy, I know you don't want to be a baby anymore. But, it's only for a month. You just have to be patient, and you'll make it through this, okay? In the meantime, the diapers are unfortunately, not an option." Tony's face screwed up in frustration, and Clint knew there was about to be a serious meltdown. Picking up Tony could be hit or miss, because, depending on how old his brain was, he'd either love or hate it. Unsure what else to do, Clint took the risk, scooping Tony into his arms, and immediately regretted it when the child started screaming bloody murder, and swinging his limbs around frantically. "Tony!" He scolded, beginning to lose his patience, "I told you, we do not hit! How would you like it if I hit you, hm?" Tony froze, eyes expanding in fear, till they took up most of his face.

It took Clint a few seconds to realize his mistake. Asking his kids how they'd like it if he'd repeated their actions was always a go to. Some parenting book he'd read said it was a good way to teach empathy. But, bringing up hitting to a toddler who'd suffered abuse? Yeah, not a good idea. 

"Gon' hi' me?" Tony whispered, tears streaming down his face. Without thinking, Clint reached out to brush away the drops, but flinched when Tony let out a shriek, "Sowwy! I sowwy Cwin'! Pwease no hi'!" Clint released the toddler from his hold, heart wrenching in pity at the sight of the tiny child shying away from him and curling in on himself against the headboard of the bed. 

"Tony, I'd never _ever_ hit you. I promise." He made no move towards the toddler, but knelt next to the bed, so his solemn face matched height with Tony's, "You're safe with me." Tony met his eyes, staring at him for a moment, like he was trying to figure out whether the spy was being honest or not. After a few excruciating moments of Clint waiting patiently as Tony's sobs ebbed to sniffles, the man released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Tony reached out one tiny pinky to him, and whispered, 

"Haf'ta' pinky pwomise." Despite himself he chuckled a little at the request.

"I absolutely pinky promise, sweetheart." The toddler uncurled a little, wrinkling his nose at the nickname. His breath hitched once more when he saw the changing pad laid out next to him on the bed,

"Pinky pwomise no diapew?" Clint sighed, 

"That, I can't pinky promise. But," Clint got an idea, "if you're a really good boy for me while I change you, you can hold this super cool stuffy I have!" He reached past Tony for one of the stuffed Avengers that'd made its way into his room at some point, not missing the way Tony flinched when his arm got to close. He held out the miniature Hawkeye in offering. Tony sniffled a few more times, rubbed his snotty nose (gross), and reached out to accept the toy.

"You?" He asked, the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips. 

"Yeah, it's me." He smirked as Tony started sucking mindlessly on the arrow the toy was holding. The other hand of the toy was folded into a sign. 

"You wanna know what the doll is saying?" He replicated the sign. Tony nodded, pulling the stuffy out of his mouth to get a better look at its fingers. "That sign means I love you." The toddler studied Clint's hand for a few more minutes, before shyly attempting to copy the sign. It took some time, and the utmost concentration for Tony to lift his pinky finger while keeping his ring finger curled, but eventually he had it, and with a slightly larger smile on his face, he announced,

"Tony woves Cwin'." in a wobbly voice that made Clint's heart melt inside his chest. He used the sign for his name, paused to translate, then crossed his hands across his chest, fingers curled in fists, and pointed to Tony. 

"Clint loves Tony." The toddler giggled, scooting over to the edge of the bed, and signing, 

**"I want hug, please"** Clint didn't have to be asked twice to wrap the toddler in a gentle hug, running his finger through the little boy's curly hair before he released him, and reached over for the changing pad. 

**"Want, want, want,"** Clint'd noticed that even when Tony was an adult he'd had a habit of repeating signs when he got excited and his brain became faster than his hands. 

**"What you want, Tony?"** Tony frantically beat his hands together in a garbled version of the sign for more, before wrapping his arms around himself in the sign for hug.

**"Please?"** Clint smiled sympathetically, but shook his head. 

"I'll give you lots more hugs after you get changed, stinky boy!" Tony growled, but didn't look like he was going to have another meltdown any time soon. Clint figured he'd tuckered himself out with that last one. He got Tony settled on the changing mat, and stripped him of his onesie, but the moment he actually started changing the child, he began whining crankily. "Look at the airplane, bud!" It was a desperate attempt to distract Tony from the diaper change, but it, shockingly, worked. The toddler giggled, as Clint bounced his hand in the sign for plane, and made a vrooming noise. Finally, Tony stilled, albeit he was waving his hand in the air, folded into the sign for flying.

"Gon' go on ai'pwane, an' gon' mee' Cwin' famiwy." He informed the man, who widened his eyes in surprise, as though it was the first he was hearing of the trip. 

"So exciting!" Clint exclaimed as he taped the diaper up, glad to have a happy baby on his hands once more. 

"Mhm," Tony agreed, "and Cwin' my favouwi' 'vengew..." Tony frowned thoughtfully, "favouwi', bu' jus' fow today." Clint laughed, 

"I'm honoured that I get to be your favourite Avenger for a _whole_ day!" the toddler giggled, but showed no signs of comprehending what Clint was saying, poor kid was really out of it. He'd dropped to his kid brain faster and more drastically than Clint'd ever seen when he thought that he was going to be hit. The thought made him frown, but he covered it up quickly, distracting himself with tugging the elastic waistband of tiny pants over Tony's diaper, and helping him stand up. "Don't let Nat hear that she's not your favourite Avenger." Tony, serious little boy that he was, nodded thoughtfully, as though storing that in his brain for later. Clint couldn't help but wonder how much knowledge Tony had in that little brain of his. "Don't let Bruce know either," he added as an after thought, "or he won't let you work on Veronica any more... what ever Veronica is." 

"Vewonica's a space satewwite with a 'mergency depwoymen' sys'em inside." Tony mumbled around the pacifier Clint had stuck in his mouth during the change. Okay, so apparently he had more in his brain that Clint had initially thought. For a brief moment, Clint worried about how Tony was going to get along with his kids, but they'd just have to wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S'my birthday.


	10. The Plane - Part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is only part one of this chapter, because I don't really have the mental capaity to write a full chapter right now. But, more about that in the notes at the bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a strangely specific head cannon that Natasha and Clint started watching the Harry Potter movies upon recommendation from Coulson, mainly just to judge the spying skills of the order of the phoenix, and both ended up becoming Remus Lupin stans along the way. It gets serious, like Clint calls coffee wolfsbane serious. Anyways... this chapter is very self indulgent in that I bring up that head cannon multiple times. Also, how can you not watch HP and not become a Lupin stan?!

There was no denying that Bruce and Steve were going to miss the energetic presence of Tony over the weekend, but all the adults had discussed as a group, and agreed that getting him out of the tower, and with other kids, would be nothing but beneficial for their favourite little genius. Still, Steve couldn't help but feel a little bit sad to see Tony go, even if it was just for a few days. He was reminiscing over how much closer Tony's de-aging situation had brought the team together, while sketching, with the mentioned child curled up on his lap. It might've been uncomfortable if Tony was in an older mindset perhaps, or if his eyes weren't completely fixated on Steve's pencil as he drew. Despite Steve's encouragement that he was a great artist, Tony usually refused to touch a marker or crayon. The man could tell how much Tony's lack of fine motor skills bothered him. Apart from his mind, Tony's hands were his money makers, and he'd always prided himself on them, so it was a real blow to his self esteem when they'd been rendered practically useless from the spell. 

"Do you want to draw, Tony? I really liked that drawing you did of the Avengers, but I think it's lonely up there on the fridge with no other drawings around it." Tony wrinkled his nose, and muttered, 

"'vengews no' wonwey. 'vengews happy cause they togethew." It took Steve a moment to understand what Tony was trying to say around his hulk pacifier, but once he did, his heart melted a little. 

"I guess you're right, they're all together, but you're missing Bruce! You only drew the hulk! And, what about Rhodey?" Tony pouted a little,

"You dwaw Bwuce and Whodey. You bette' then me." Steve shook his head, 

"There's no such thing as better or worse in art, Tony. There's experienced, and less experienced, and your little hands happen to not be very experienced in art. I'm an old man, so I've had lots of time to practice," That elicited a giggle from the toddler, "and the only way you're going to improve your art is if you practice." Tony perked up a little in Steve's lap, 

"You teach me?" He asked hopefully, before curling in a little on himself, "Don' have to. You awe Cap'n 'mewica, so pwobabwy too busy." When Tony began fawning over Steve's position as Captain America, that's when they knew he was fully separated from his adult mind, and it'd quickly become a metre stick to measure how deep into his toddler mindset Tony was. Steve couldn't help but grin at how sweet the little boy was.

"I'm never too busy for my friends! Especially you, silly!" He teasingly poked the toddler in tummy, smiling larger when he squealed and giggled in his arms. "Let's get you some crayons and paper." He carried Tony over to the table, the toddler babbling about how he was gonna draw Bruce doing science stuff that Steve didn't really understand.

* * *

By the time lunch came around, Tony was feeling very proud of his artwork he'd created with Steve's coaching. Steve had already hidden the drawing in a cupboard of Tony's dish ware, and was scrubbing the crayon off the table when the avengers began trickling in, in search of food. The team was busying themselves around the kitchen, preparing their respective meals, and chatting. The noise of Nat and Clint arguing over which Harry Potter movie they were gonna watch with the kids that night made it so no one really noticed the way Tony would giggle and clap whenever someone went close to the cupboard hiding the drawing, except for Steve that is. After things settled down (the spy twins ended up agreeing on Prisoner of Azkaban, due to their mutual love for Remus Lupin), Steve placed a cup of yoghurt and a cookie on Tony's tray, and gave him an exaggerated wink as he called out to Bruce, 

"Hey Bruce, could you grab me a spoon and a sippy cup from Tony's cupboard?" Tony squealed in delight, earning him a few confused glances from his teammates. No one ever said that toddlers are inconspicuous. Bruce opened the drawer, and drew out the large piece of craft paper sitting on top of the sippy cup.

"S'eve and I dwaw you!" Tony shouted happily, unable to contain himself any longer. Bruce examined the drawings, looking genuinely surprised and touched.

"Tony, this is the best gift ever! Is it my birthday?" The toddler laughed,

"Nuh-uh, s'cause I dwaw the 'vengews, bu' don' dwaw Bwuce, jus' Hu'k. Bwuce 'vengew too!" 

"I love it Tony, thank you. I'm gonna put it up on the fridge so everyone can see it!" He stuck it right next to the Avengers drawing using a mjolnir magnet. Nat and Clint came over to get a closer look at the drawing as well. There was a line through the middle of the page. On one side was a drawing that was obviously Tony's, of him and Bruce building something in the lab, Dum-E in the corner with a dunce cap on. The other side of the page was a stunning drawing of Bruce in the living room, mouth twisted in concentration as he corrected something on one of the holograms hovering around him, Tiny Tony kneeling on his lap, reaching up for a model of Veronica hovering above his head. Steve had managed to make the most incredible, detailed drawing ever done in Crayola crayons. Even Natasha whistled in appreciation as she took in the drawing.

"You boys worked pretty hard today, huh?"

Tony beamed at all the praise he was receiving, while Steve just blushed and tried to ignore any compliments sent his way. He was not a child, and he didn't need his colleagues praising his art, though he had to admit he definitely enjoyed the little bubble of pride that swelled in his chest when he received the praise. This was a new experience for him, art always being something he'd done in private, and he decided that night that he just might share his pieces more often. Though, they probably wouldn't be done in crayon.

* * *

After lunch Tony and the spies said their farewells, and headed out. Tony looked on the verge of tears as he said goodbye to the other Avengers, which was adorable, but Clint in no way wanted to deal with a crying toddler. So, he distracted the little boy by offering to teach him how to say "fly in an airplane" in ASL. He was too busy clumsily copying Clint's signs with the utmost concentration to even notice as Natasha buckled him into the car seat Clint had insisted they attach to Tony's normal chair on the jet.

When he did notice however, he was not happy. He frowned as he toyed with the buckles, quickly realizing that they were not coming undone. He must've been a little bit older than that morning, because he looked thoroughly embarrassed at his struggle against the child-proof clips. 

**"Please, Clint? Let go?"** He signed hopefully. Reaching towards the archer, and whining a little. Clint cooed sympathetically, but shook his head nonetheless. 

"Sorry, babe." He dabbed the corner of Tony's eye, erasing a single tear that was threatening to fall. "I think it's time for you to go nighty-night." Tony kicked one foot dejectedly, they'd just been having so much fun, and now Clint was being so mean!

"No' nigh'." He grumbled. 

"Alright then," Clint responded absentmindedly while signing for a pacifier, which Natasha slipped into his hand. "Nap time." Apparently, Tony recognized the sign, somehow, because he whined and turned so his face was pressed into the side of his carseat. 

"NO SOO SOO!" He growled, kicking one of his tiny shoes off. Clint sighed. If nothing else, one thing the team had learned one thing from the de-aging of Tony was how stubborn two-year-olds could be. 

"Really, Tones? We're gonna go through this again. I thought you liked your soo soo." He wiggled the pacifier, which Tony had fondly begun calling soo soo, in front of the toddler. He knew for a fact that Tony did actually like the soother, and was just being stubborn. In fact, he'd spotted Tony waddling around the tower looking for it on multiple occasions. 

"Don' wan' sweep." He whimpered sadly, "Wan' see sky. Miss fwyin'." Clint teased Tony's curly hair with his fingers,

"I know you do, babe. And, we all miss seeing Iron man flying around, right Nat?" The other spy, who was busy setting the route for the trip on the jet's GPS, just hummed distractedly in response. Tony looked in no way mollified by that response, so Clint gave in with a sigh. "Fine, you can stay awake for a little bit, but you do need to sleep at some point on the flight. Deal?" Tony clapped and wiggled happily, which made strapping his shoe back on much more difficult than it should've been.

Now content with the fact that he wasn't being made to go to sleep, Tony reached out, making grabby hands for his pacifier. Clint slipped it into his mouth, smiling when the toddler mumbled a thank you from around it, and went over to join Nat in the copilot seat.

As they began their ascension, one of the adults would peek back every few minutes to check on the toddler. Each time he was just happily suckling on his pacifier, and blabbering to himself in baby talk as he peered out at the mountains they were flying over. After a half an hour or so, Clint tapped Nat on her shoulder, and subtly pointed back to the toddler with a grin. His babbling had become slow and lethargic, and his eyes were fluttering closed. He was going to fall asleep whether he wanted to or not, and thank god for that. A sleeping baby on a plane, is much better than a conscious baby, because conscious babies on planes _always_ become fussy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, this is me being serious... for once. Life has been well, hard. I know that a lot of us are feeling the pain and loss of recent events, especially those of us who are people of colour. As some of you know, I'm immunocompromised, and therefore unable to leave my house to join any protests, or be with others in my community. I'll admit that being alone during this time I've gotten low, and I've been feeling very lost. I got lost in the pain and frustration, and I've been neglecting my responsibilities as a writer. But, I think I owe all my dear readers a big thank you for your continued support, because now as I reopen my computer and begin writing again, I know that this community will undeniably welcome me back with open arms. Here in this online group of people with a mutual love for exploring fictional realms, I've found a small solace, and a beacon of light. Thank you all.


	11. The Plane - Part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know yet, this story is set in the imaginary period of time right after Avengers 1 where all the Avengers live together in Stark Tower, and everyone is happy, and NOTHING bad ever happens (except for the occasional de-aging).

Tony stayed awake the whole flight. It seemed for a while like he's going to nap, but then his mindset had to go and shift, and suddenly they had a very adult, but still very fussy Tony on their hands, who refused to sleep in a carseat. 

"We' me ou' Bi'd-bwain!" Tony kicked his feet angrily, and fussed with the carseat buckles. Clint sighed, and turned his pilot seat all the way around to face the toddler. 

"No, Tony. I think now would be a great time for you to have a nap."

"No nap!" He snarled, looking offended. "No' baby!" Clint scoffed,

"Really? Because you're acting a lot like a fussy baby." Clint wished that Tony would have more difinitive and seperate headspaces. But, with his lack of sleep, he was drifting quickly back and forth between the two, and he was never fully settled in one or the other. Clint assumed that if he could just get the toddler to settle down for a nap, he'd probably stay steadily in his adult mind for a while, but right now he was somewhere between the two.

"No!" Tony whimpered, "Big!" It wasn't true of course. He knew he was stuck in between headspaces, and it was driving him crazy. It was almost like there was an adult in his brain, complaining about how dastardly this whole situation was, but his body was responding in ways much more befitting of a two-year-old. Oh, and his hands! His glorious hands that could once work on even the most intricate projects after a week of no sleep, couldn't even manage to open a buckle, no matter how much he struggled agaisnt the binds.

"You know how I know you're not big Tony? I know because adult Tony would be able to pop open that buckle in seconds." Tony swore to god that man had some kind of mind reading powers. He was mortifyingly close to tears now, and in one final desperate act, he pulled the pacifier clip off of his shirt, and tried to use the metal edge to pop open the buckle. When he got to close to succeding, Clint walked over, and gently pried the clip out of Tony's hands. 

"Hey now," he cooed, "no need for that, Tones. You're really not gonna sleep, huh?" Tony just shook his head, scrubbing the beginnings of tears out of his eyes. "Alright then, why don't you eat one of the nummy snacks Natasha packed, hm?" Tony growled, and threw his head to the side. Why wouldn't Clint stop talking to him like he was a child? Despite the fact that he _was_ technically a child, that man had to right to treat him that way! He growled and yanked at the straps again, though he knew it was futile. "Tony," uh oh, Clint was starting to sound frustrated, "you choose, nap time or snack time. But, if you want to continue to play with your carseat I will not hesitate to put you in mittens." Tony gasped, looking shocked.

"No!" He whined pitifully. "No mi'ens!" 

"Fine then," Clint agreed calmly, "make a choice." Tony humphed indignantly before accepting a container of animal crackers Clint offered him with a smirk. "Not so bad, hm?" Tony just stuck out his cookie crumb covered tongue at the archer, his face set in a deep scowl. Clint responded maturely, by sticking his tongue right back at the toddler, and returning to his seat. "Thank you, sweet boy." He teased as he switched places with Natasha, taking over the pilot seat for a while.

* * *

With Clint manning the plane, Natasha wandered back to where Tony was sitting, a few minutes after he'd finished his snack. The toddler was too busy squirming in his seat, eyes trained on the sky beyond his window, to notice her settle herself delicately next to him. 

"маленькая птица, do you need a change?" He whipped around to face her, obviously not having noticed her before, but the moment he processed her question tears flooded to his eyes, and he began sucking rapidly on his pacifier to soothe himself. She took that as a yes, and with a sympathetic hum, collected the now crying toddler into her arms. "It's alright Anton. Let's get you cleaned up." He squirmed in her hold, shaking his head.

"No' okay!" He wailed, "Sowwy I jus' a dumb baby." The spy winced at both his self-depricating tone, and his high pitched sobs. 

"Tony, you are plenty of things..." She trailed off as she thought of all the foul words that could fill that blank, "but dumb is certainely not one of them." She finished firmly, placing the sniffling child down on the cot usually reserved for post-transformation Bruce. 

"No." he rubbed his eyes as he muttered softly. "Was big. Shouldn' have acciden' when 'm big." Okay, now she understood why he was so upset. 

"Just the effects of the spell, little bird." Tony'd assumed that whatever she'd called him earlier had been along the lines of that pet name, but hearing it in English still made his cheeks turn pink. 

"Sowwy you have to hewp me." He said, pointedley looking away from her.

"No apologies needed." She murmured, "We help the people we care about." She scooped him up after she finished changing him, and planted a kiss against his warm forehead. "You wanna go to sleep now? You look sleepy." He pushed his tiny hands into her sternum crankily as she placed him back down in the car seat. "Right. Well, it was worth a shot."

As she turned to leave, she heard a soft little voice from behind her.

"Cawe bou' you too, mama." Tony's pacifier had fallen from his mouth, and he was shoving a fist in to replace it. A smile played on her lips as she walked over and pressed the object back into his waiting mouth. 

"I know sweet heart. And, if you really want to help me, you can try to go to sleep for at least a little bit before we get to Clint's house." She waved at the suckling child, and returned to the cockpit, leaving him to consider that. 

* * *

Tony wailed the entire last two hours of the flight. They'd agreed after a while to let him just cry it out, but when that didn't work and neither spy had any more ideas, Clint just took out his hearing aids with a grin, and left Natasha to deal with Tony. He didn't return the devices to his ears till after they'd began their descent, and Tony's cries had died down a little as he took in the sight of the farmland growing beneath him. When the landed in the field next to Clint's house, Tony was inarguably completely submerged in his toddler headspace.

"Ou' now?" He asked hopefully, sniffling and reaching for Clint who was approaching him. Clint couldn't help but coo at the sight of the sleepy little boy, 

"Yeah babe. We're here."

"Cwin' home." Tony nodded knowingly as he peered out the window "Cwin' happy?" 

"Super happy. I'd be even happier if we dried away those tears, sweet boy." He finally unclipped the toddler, and hoisted him onto his hip, not missing the way he curled himself in closer against the archer, clinging with one tiny fist to his shirt. "Nervous?" He asked soflty, bounding the boy a little. Tony shook his head, which judging by his body language, was a total lie. He was sucking rapidly on his pacifier, and now both his hands were toying with Clint's shirt. 

"Don' pway with othew kids." He muttered soflty after a few seconds of Clint rocking him gently as he repacked the content's of Tony's diaper bag. "Wha' if they don' wike me cause 'm diffewen'?" 

Oh. This wasn't a talk that Clint was excpecting to have with Tony, but judging by what he knew of Tony's childhood, he'd probably never talked to anyone about feeling different from other kids, and it'd also been confirmed that he had very little experience with them either. 

"Sweetheart, I-" Clint wasn't really sure what to say next. He wasn't exactly home often enough to be entirely comfortable having difficult conversations with kids. "I can guarantee that my kids are going to love you. They really are Tony. They're great, and you're great so... yeah, it's gonna be great. As for other people, I can't make the same guarantee. You are different, Tony. There's no denying that. You're Tony freaking Stark, and you're completely unique and different in your own brilliant way, but... a lot of the time people don't like what's different. I- I assume your concerns are stemming from some past experience?" Tony nodded sheepishly,

"Didn' go to schoow with othe' kids, cause da' say I'm diffewen', an' he say othe' kids won' wike me cause don' undews'and me." He ducked his head down, tucking it neatly into Clint's shirt. "And tha' makes me sad cause I don' wan' be diffewen', wan' fwiends." Clint sighed and settled gingerly on the edge of one of the passenger seats so he could hold Tony closer. 

"Well, like I said, a lot of people don't like what's different. But, that's only because they're intimidated by what's different. All you have to remember is _why_ they're intimidated. They're intimidated because your different is genius on a whole other plane above what they're used to. Because, different is bold and eccentric and untameable, but Tony, different is beautiful. Different is _super_. Besides, if kids are mean to you because you're different, that means you don't want to be friends with them anyways. They're definitely not super. And, it's not impossible to make friends even if you are different. Look at me, for example."

"You no' a genius." Tony poked Clint in the stomach. "You make fwiends supew easy." Clint laughed, 

"You're right, I'm not a genius, but it still certainely wasn't easy finding friends when I was a deaf kid with no money to buy aids." Tony's mouth formed a little o. 

"Fowgo' bou' tha'." Tony said thoughtfully, reaching up to tug on one of Clint's earlobes. 

"Most people do, thanks to these super awesome aids you gave me." Clint grinned and tapped one of the devices. "But, communication wasn't always this easy for me, and a lot of the time I was really scared to be around other kids. So, you know what I did when I felt alone?" Tony shook his head. "I looked for the other people who were different too. Together we learned that our differences made us stronger, and it made all the bullying and the fears a little less important." He smiled, "You know why you're lucky, Tony?"

"Nuh uh." Tony scooted on Clint's lap so he was face to face with him, instead of leaning back against him. 

"Because, you already live in a tower full of different people. People from different places with different abilities, just ask Steve about his childhood when he was all scrappy and sick. And Bruce, I mean the dude turns into a monster. But, the ones who overcome and embrace our differences, the outcasts and misfits, we're the super ones! I'm telling you kid, embrace your different, embrace your super, and other kids will love you! My kids are going to love you either way, they'll be so excited to meet Ironman, even if he is puny." Tony who'd previously been smiling, scowled at the cackling archer. 

"No' puny!" 

"Okay, Tiny Tony, let's get out of this plane now, huh?" 

"Don't antagonize the child, Barton." Natasha scolded as she entered the plane from her exterior check. "And yes, let's please get off this plane so I can watch Harry Potter with my niece and nephew." Tony reached out for Natasha, and after scrubbing his face on the soft fabric of her hoodie to remove any remnants of his cry, they exited the plane.

* * *

The trio made their way through a small pasture to where a cross looking woman was standing on the front porch of a nearby rancher. Tony assumed that she was Clint's wife, and buried his face shyly in Natasha's hoodie at the displeased look she was giving her husband and his colleague,

"Ma'am." Clint greeted formally with a southern Twang, obviously trying for Comedy, while Natasha gave the woman a smile and a casual,

"Hey, Laura." as though she didn't have an unidentified toddler on her hip. 

"Barton," It was apparent when she ignored both of their greetings that neither route was the correct one. "Explain the child." 

"I thought you told her ahead of time." Natasha muttered sotta voce.

"I forgot?" Clint smiled sheepishly, only recieving piercing glares from both women, "Right," Clint cleared his throat, obviously stalling, "you know how the kids have always wanted to meet ironman?" He took Tony from Natasha, cradling him against his chest, and nudging him a little encouraging him to give Laura any type of greeting. Tony gave the lady a shy wave as Clint said, "Well, now they can. Surprise?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worked 11 hour shifts every day this week, so apologies for the late chapter! (virtual work)


	12. Barton Family Farm part 1 of 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First night at the farm, day 4 of the curse (if I'm not mistaken).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One swearword in this chapter, because when describing Howard Stark, I can't resist. ¬_¬ (that's my unamused with Howard's tom foolery face btw).

"Ironman? What are you talking about? Just be honest with me Clint. Is-" There was a pregnant pause in Laura's speech as she winced, "is he yours? Is he Nat's? Who's child is this, and why's he at my house?" 

"Jesus, Laura! Of course he's not mine!" Clint removed his hand from Tony's back and scrubbed it against his face, "He's not Nat's either. He's Howard and Maria Stark's, and he _is_ really Tony Stark: Genius, Billionaire, blah blah blah. He got hit by some sort of spell in battle, and he's stuck like this for a month. It's... it's a long story, but this little guy needs a nap, so maybe we can continue this conversation inside?" Laura's face softened, and while she still appeared to be in shock, she took pity on the obviously sleepy toddler and opened the door to the farmhouse.

* * *

After a very enthusiastic greeting from the kids, everyone migrated into the living room. Clint had Lila sitting on his lap, rapidly signing stories about every single thing he'd missed since he'd last been home, and Cooper tucked against his side already engrossed in the book about spies he'd brought home for him. Natasha was perched on the back of an armchair with Tony half asleep in her arms, and Laura was flitting around the room, seeming unsure what to do with herself. There was a _billionaire_ in her house, and not only was he in her house, he had some kind of magic curse on him or something! Finally she settled on the couch next to Clint when he patted on the cushion invitingly. 

"Alright," He started, "I guess it's explanation time. Like I said, we were in battle against this alien army-"

"What?!" Laura interjected, "Clinton Francis Barton, why didn't you tell me you fought an alien army?" The heads of both children perked up, and Clint ducked his head like a scolded dog, much to Natasha's amusement. 

"It wasn't a big deal, Laura. Besides, that's off topic. The moral of the story is that they used their freaky alien magic, and now Tony Stark is stuck in his two-year-old body for the next month. He retained all his memories, but he kind of switches between baby- sorry toddler" He corrected himself at a drowsy protest from Tony, "toddler and adult mindset." He paused to allow his wife some time to absorb all the information he'd dropped so far. "Sometimes he switches cause he's sleepy, sometimes it's a change in emotion or when he gets hurt, sometimes he just changes at the drop of a hat." Clint shrugged, "We aren't really trying to understand it so much as we're just trying to give him the care he needs. Right now he's pretty little by the way. And when he's little he loves cuddles, so I bet he'd be happy if you held him." Clint looked pointedly at where his wife was now hovering over Natasha and fondling the hair of the admittedly adorable toddler. 

After a moment of hesitation, Laura accepted a now sleeping Tony from Natasha's offering arms. 

"Oh," She breathed as Tony curled himself in against her, "he's such a gem, huh? But, that doesn't really answer my question. Why's he here? Bruce couldn't take care of a toddler for the weekend, or Steve? It's not that I'm not happy to have him here, but we're gonna have to set up a crib somewhere and- oh, it doesn't really matter does it. He's so sweet." Clint smiled, 

"Yeah, he's a cutey."

Don't tell him that, though. He already has a big enough head." Natasha chimed in with a teasing smile. "Bruce doesn't really like taking care of him, he's always scared of a hulk-out. Steve, well Steve and Tony never really got along when Tony was an adult, and Thor's not on earth, so..." 

"So he's here with us." Clint finished. 

"Poor baby," Laura cooed as she returned to her place on the couch, "we'll have to get out Lila's old crib and highchair, and-"

"No, mama! I'm a big girl!" Lila protested from her father's lap.

"Not for you sweetheart, for Tony. He's gonna be staying with us for a few days. Anyways, we'll dig that stuff out of the basement, and- wait, I doubt you already had any of that stuff at the tower, what'd you do when you took him home?" Clint was a little bit shocked at how quickly Laura accepted the situation, and welcomed in the toddler, but he supposed that after years of Clint getting pulled into crazy situations at work, she'd developed a little bit of a thick skin towards absurd events and people crashing into her life. 

"JARVIS did some shopping." Natasha responded with a smirk "Tony won't even notice the drop in his bank account it'll be so minuscule to him." 

"Well, for now he can sleep in Lila's bed with her. It has a side bar anyways." 

"I'll take him to bed." Clint offered, "And then, I think it's time for Harry Potter with these two monkeys!" Clint grinned and ruffled his son's hair. "Tomorrow, you and I are up bright and early, kid. We're gonna repair that rotted front step." Cooper groaned loudly as Clint scooped up the toddler and bounced him a little. "Don't wanna do any work? Sounds to me like you've been slacking off while I was away, lazy bottom." 

"Nuh-uh." The boy argued, "I'm the man of the house when you're gone, dad!" He puffed his chest proudly, "I helped mom with all kind's of stuff!" Clint chuckled and began leaving the room,

"I'm sure you did, Squirt. I'll be right back, gonna put Tones to bed." 

"Dad?" Cooper clambered onto his knees, "Is that baby really really Ironman?" There was an excited sparkle in his eye. He'd been listening to the whole conversation in awed silence, and was waiting raptly for Clint's response. 

"Yeah, kid. He's really really really Ironman."

"Woah!" He breathed, "He's a super hero! Like Auntie Nat!" Natasha cackled at the same time that Clint scoffed indignantly,

"Wait a dam- darn minute! What about your old man?" Cooper giggled before schooling his face into an uninterested expression and shrugging, 

"Meh. You're not really _super_. Ironman flies, and Auntie Nat is all bendy and cool, and you... you just do archery." Another giggle slipped from the boy's lips. It was obvious he was just teasing.

"Hear that? I'm bendy and cool. What's your power, _old man_?" Natasha poked Clint in his side. 

"I don't have to stand here and be bullied like this! I'm going to take Tony to bed." Clint wiped a fake tear off his face dramatically, "He's the only one in this house who truly cares about me!"

* * *

After Tony was changed, tucked into bed, and joined by Lila a few minutes later; after the popcorn was devoured, and the movie was watched; after the plot holes were discussed, and Cooper drifted off into sleep in the middle of a debate over which Marauder was the best; the remaining conscious people cracked open a bottle of wine and spent hours exchanging stories the others hadn't been there to experience with them.

Clint was naturally close with both his wife and his work partner, but the two women had also developed a deep connection over the years, and they were now chatting and laughing like they saw each other every day. Even though it'd been months since Natasha had been able to join Clint on a visit home, it felt like no time had passed since the last time she'd been on that exact stool in the Bartons' kitchen clasping Laura's hand in her own as they laughed and laughed over trivial things. Clint's home, like everything else belonging to Clint felt like nothing but safety and acceptance to Natasha, and there were few other things in the world that made her feel safe or accepted. When Clint had first recruited Nat, she'd felt ostracized at work, and unwelcome in her new country, but Laura hadn't even blinked an eye before accepting the girl in with open protective arms. That first time coming with Clint to the farm, her gaze untrusting, her eyes young, and her Russian accent barely concealed, Natasha had known the moment she stepped in the door that she'd found her family and home within the Bartons. She was so damn happy to be back. 

"-and you should've seen her face!" After being lost in thought, Natasha drifted back into the moment, just in time to catch Clint telling some story that was presumably detrimental to the tough image she worked so hard to maintain. 

"Oh my god!" Laura sat down her wine glass to wipe a tear from her eye, "did that actually happen, Nat?" She let out a mirthful laugh. 

"Of course it happened! I wouldn't lie!" Clint was also laughing. She snorted in response,

"You're a spy, Clint. You lie for a living." Natasha released Laura's hand from her clutch to pour herself another glass of wine. It was her third glass of wine; she should've been at least a little drunk, but she had a high alcohol tolerance, and even if she was hammered any behaviours displayed by drunk people had long since been trained out of her. She knew Clint was the same way, and while they were both perhaps laughing a little more than they usually did, that was more from the company rather than the alcohol. The only proof she had that he was drunk at all was that when he swung a dart he had in his hand, aiming for the dartboard around the corner and down the hall, the thunk told her that it had landed in the bullseye, but had entered the target on an angle. Clint always tried to avoid landing any projectiles at an angle, seeing as that kind of technique could be less lethal when used on an opponent. "Weak aim, Hawk." She smirked and clicked her tongue, "Think maybe you've had one too many?" 

"No," Clint pouted, "Shuddup, Tasha." 

"Oh ho, watch it, you're starting to sound like Tony." Laura who'd been laughing previously went quiet at the comment. 

"How's he doing? Poor man, that can't be easy." Natasha smiled softly in her best 'everything is okay' expression.

"Well, poor is certainly not a word I'd use to describe Tony, but all jokes aside, he's doing alright. As well as one could be doing, what with his history and all."

"History?"

"Yeah," Clint grumbled, "history of having a total asshole as a dad."

"Oh." 

"It doesn't come up often, and I wouldn't bring it up, but any mentions of violence are not recommended. Also, he doesn't like water on his head, so baths are sometimes... difficult." Laura nodded, her face somber, 

"Dually noted. Anything else I should know?"

"Um..." Clint hummed thoughtfully, "He likes magic school bus, but he can't stand Doc McStuffins, and he likes to deny his situation. 'Not a baby' are probably the words I've heard the most frequently over the last few days." Laura laughed again, and promptly conversation moved on to more pleasant topics.

The trio were back to laughing and chatting in no time, till close to midnight pitiful wails were heard coming from Lila's bedroom, quickly accompanied by a second sobbing voice. For the Bartons it brought back memories of when Lila had just been born and Cooper was only a toddler, cause it's a known fact that when one baby cries, the other one is going to cry too. Clint stood, followed soon after by Natasha when Tony let out a desperate wail for his mama.

"Mama?" Laura echoed.

"It's a nickname." Natasha grumbled as she went down the hallway to the bedroom. 

Inside the bedroom was pretty bright due to the night light illuminating it, and Natasha could clearly see Tony kneeling at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the rails of the side bar. 

"Mama!" He sniffled reaching out for Nat, "Wan' mama!" 

"Hey now, what's wrong Anton? You woke up your little friend with all those tears!" Lila, who was now nuzzled against her father let out a muffled sob against his chest. 

"What's going on baby?" 

"No' baby! Big!" Laura, who was standing in the doorway of the room let out a chuckle.

"What'd I tell you?" Clint gave her a knowing smile as he bounced their daughter up and down. 

"No!" Tony argued, "Dis time weawwy big, Cwin'!" Clint's face softened as he realized that Tony wasn't lying. 

"Sorry, Tones, didn't realize. What's going on, bud? I didn't expect to see adult Tony tonight." Clint passed a once again sleeping Lila to his wife, and took Tony from Natasha, giving him the same bouncing treatment he'd given his daughter. This time however, instead of being met with a soft yawn and a sleepy toddler, he was met with an offended scowl.

"I had, um..." Tony scrunched up his nose as his already flushed cheeks went a deeper red, "I had nigh'mawe. Was baby, bu' woke up big." It was probably the first time Clint heard Tony call himself a baby. It could've been a testament to how tired he was, but it also could've been a testament to how difficult the word little was for him to say.

"Sweetie," Clint cooed, "I'm sorry you had a nightmare. I know you're big, but maybe we can go out into the living room and have a little cuddle, hm? You never know, it just might help." Clint knew that Tony was still firmly in his adult headspace, but he was also very, very tired, so it didn't surprise him that much when Tony agreed with only a few protests about still being an adult. Laura tucked Lila back into bed, and then the three adults plus Tony made their way into the living room.

* * *

Tony snarled at Natasha who was holding out a sippy cup of milk to him. 

"Really, Tony? You know I can't give you a regular glass, you'll just spill it." 

"Tha's fine," Tony turned his head away from her, "Don' wan' miwk anyways." Clint, who was holding Tony, chuckled and took the cup from Natasha.

"Stubborn no matter what headspace you're in. What if I take off the lid?" Tony's face changed from stubborn to satisfied as he made grabby hands for the cup. "But," the scowl returned, "I'm holding it for you. I'm not having you spill on my couch, and that's final." Tony let out a groan, but allowed Clint to pop the lid off of the drink and tip the cup up to his mouth. "Hey, you know what i just realized?" Tony swallowed and shook his head, "This is the first time Laura's meeting adult you?" Laura smiled, looking flustered, 

"Yeah, I guess that's right. It's nice to meet you, Tony... or, not meet you, because I've already met you. But, that wasn't you, you know? I mean, I gue-"

"Laura, hon? Calm down, you're rambling." Clint chuckled good-naturedly.

"Oh," Laura flushed, "sorry. I, um... hi." Tony grinned, and leaned back against Clint to whisper,

"I wike hew." 

"Yeah?" Clint responded in a stage whisper to match Tony, "I'm glad. I like her too."

The adults spent the next half an hour or so chatting, quieter this time, as Tony sat on Clint's lap slowly sipping away at his milk and watching them converse, too tired and drowsy to voice any thoughts he had on their topics of discussion. At around quarter to one, Tony's head fell forward against his chin as he conked out, and the adults after getting him to bed, finally went to sleep themselves. Clint went to bed happy. Not only was he back home with his wife and family again, Tony and Natasha seemed really happy. This was going to be a good weekend, he could feel it! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever write a fic, and then realize that you've totally just omitted an important character from the story line? A fine example would be Pepper in this fic. Where the heck is she?! It'd be much easier if I could just say she doesn't exist in this verse, but what a sad, sad world that would be. For now we'll say she's at a business meeting in Tokyo, and if it feels natural, I'll add her into the story later. She probs won't be a love interest, cause I don't know if I want to write a love story between a toddler and a grown lady lol.


End file.
